


To Wish Possible Things

by bodybroke



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodybroke/pseuds/bodybroke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events at Mr. Schue's wedding, Brittany and Santana have a long overdue conversation about what exactly went wrong in their relationship, and start trying to fix it, with a little help from their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something I wrote after reading a lot of post I Do/general canon fics that I didn't like, due to everything being blamed on one girl (usually Brittany), and I really disagreed with that, so this happened.

Quinn isn't the first girl that Santana has slept with since the break up. She's just the latest in a small string of meaningless one night stands that did very little, if anything, to get her off. But if she's being honest with herself, her libido isn't exactly the reason tonight, or any other night, happened. Really, she was just trying to forget.

"I mean, it felt good," the blonde muses from the head of the bed, this time laying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling. "But it always feels good if the person knows what they're doing, right?"

"Not really," Santana answers from her spot at the other end of the bed, thinking of all those times with Puck. He's probably what most would consider skilled in bed, at least for a teenage boy, but all she ever felt was uncomfortable. "It always felt weird with guys."

Quinn considers this. "Yeah, but you're gay, it's different. A dick means a guy, and you don't like guys. Fingers are unisex, it doesn't mean the same thing."

"Whatever you say." Quinn's sexuality is her own business, and she couldn't really care less either way. Though, remembering what a crazy psycho the girl can turn into at the drop of a hat, she's crossing her fingers she decides she's straight, just in case she tries to sink her claws into her the way she did with Finn for most of high school.

"I don't think I could _date_ a girl, though," the blonde continues to think out loud. "You can manipulate guys and treat them like shit, and they don't know any better. Girls are needy and high maintenance. I don't think I could deal with that."

"Dating girls is awesome."

"You've only dated Brittany," Quinn argues back.

"Well, dating _Brittany_ was awesome," Santana counters without thinking. As soon as the name leaves her lips, a heavy silence falls over the room. It was no secret that the other blonde had been hanging over them all night, that seeing her with Sam was a huge reason they were even there right now, but it was like both girls made a silent agreement not to actually mention the girl. "Forget I said that."

Never one to listen or be particularly sensitive, Quinn ignores her. "What happened between you two anyway? I know everyone says long distance relationships don't work, but I figured if anyone could make it work, it'd be you guys." She's not trying to rub it in or give her free therapy, she's just genuinely curious. She feels like she's watched Brittany and Santana's relationship progress over the years, even if it was from a distance most of the time, so she kind of really wants the full story.

"I don't want to talk about it," Santana snaps, glaring at the blonde. "Especially not with you."

"Why? Because we just had sex?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "No, because you're a crazy bitch, and we don't do heart to hearts. Just palms to faces."

"Did you cheat on her?"

"Fuck you, Fabray," Santana replies, narrowing her eyes. "I'd _never_ cheat on Brittany. Just because the rest of you glee club losers could never keep it in your pants, doesn't mean I can't."

Quinn kind of figured. Santana might be an insensitive bitch to everyone else, but she's never seen someone turn into such a mushy puppy dog the way Santana does with Brittany. "So what happened?"

"It's complicated," is all Santana will say. The last thing she's going to do is spill her heart out to Quinn fucking Fabray, especially not after what they just did. "Just drop it."

"Why, or you won't get me off again?"

Santana lets out a laugh as she sits up, pulling the blanket up with her to keep herself covered. "You're out of your mind if you think this is ever happening again. You served your purpose, Quinnie, so you can add this to your bucket list or whatever and forget it ever happened."

"Wow," the blonde remarks, propping herself up on her side to watch the other girl move around the room, looking for her clothes. "I'm starting to feel a little used here."

" _Used_?" Santana scoffs, tightening her hold on the sheet as pulls up her underwear. "All you did was lay there. We have a name for people like you, pillow princess."

"Not my fault you wouldn't let me return the favor." Quinn had offered to try after the second time, but Santana immediately shot her down, and moved to the foot of the bed to put as much space as possible between them. She assumes it's some weird guilt thing about Brittany, like Santana feels like she's cheating on her even though she's not. Santana's pathetically in love enough for something like that. "I offered."

Santana freezes for a moment, and is glad her back is turned while she's putting her bra on. Quinn's assumption is exactly right, but Santana tries to brush it off. "Yeah, and I was too drunk to try to fake it, so I thought I'd save us both the awkward embarrassment."

The blonde just smirks, not bothered by the jab. She waits until Santana has her dress back on before asking, "Where are you going anyway? It's really late."

"I'm just gonna go home. I don't live there anymore, so it's not like my parents can ground me," she explains, glancing around the room to try to make sure she's got everything. When she realizes she does, she turns back to regard the blonde a little more seriously than she has all evening. "We're good, right? Things aren't gonna be awkward between us now or anything?"

Quinn shakes her head and smiles. "It's fine. Since when have we ever let a thing like this stand in the way of our largely superficial friendship?"

"True," Santana laughs, glad to see she didn't fuck up another one of her relationships. Quinn's not really a friend she would ever run to in a time of need, but it would still suck to lose a friend of any kind over something so meaningless. She moves towards the door, but pauses as she grabs the handle, and glances back at her friend. She doesn't think Quinn is too worried about what this means for her, but she distinctly remembers how fucking terrified she was after the first time she slept with Brittany, and what it meant for her, and she feels like she has to ask. "You, ah, you're okay with the whole, sex with a girl thing too, right? Did you want to talk about that some more?"

Quinn can tell Santana would rather rip her own teeth out than talk to her about that, but she thinks it's kind of sweet she offered. Sweet enough that she doesn't take her up on the offer just to torture her, even though she's tempted. "I'm okay. I'm a pro at identity crises at this point. This barely even registers on my radar. You can go."

"Thank God," she mumbles, relaxing. She's practically a baby gay herself still, she's in no position to be doling out advice. She pulls the door open and slips through it, poking her head back inside to get one last jab in. "By the way, I left your fee on the nightstand. I totally screwed you on the tip, though."

She manages to pull the door shut just as the pillow comes flying in her direction. "Bitch!"

"Later, Fabray!" she calls through the door, before she starts her walk of shame down the hall.

 

A couple days later, Santana is in the middle of shoving clothes into her suitcase when she hears a soft knock on her bedroom door.

"I already told you I can't stay for dinner, Mami," she calls out, assuming that's who it is. The woman has already come in three times to try to convince her to stay for a nice home cooked goodbye meal. "Kurt and Rachel want to get to the airport by five."

When she doesn't get a response, she looks towards the door and watches it open slowly to reveal a timid looking blonde. She doesn't think she's ever seen Brittany look so unsure of herself, and certainly not around her. "It's not your mom."

Her natural reaction is to try to put the girl at ease, but then she remembers the last time she saw her, and the bile that rose in her throat every time she caught a glimpse of her with Trouty Mouth, and she stops herself. "I can see that."

"She did let me in though," Brittany offers with a nervous smile. She has never once felt unwelcome in Santana's room, but she realizes there's a first time for everything. "You should really think about staying for dinner, whatever she's cooking smelled really good."

Not in the mood for small talk, Santana tries to cut to the chase. "What do you want, Brittany?"

The blonde immediately looks down, chastised. She didn't really expect a hug or anything, but she figured Santana would at least pretend that things weren't so weird between them. Deciding to follow her lead, Brittany took a deep breath and gets straight to the point. "Is it true?"

"What?"

"That you slept with Quinn?" Her voice cracks as she says the other blonde's name.

Santana freezes and she's suddenly really glad that she's facing away from her ex-girlfriend. She shakes off the guilt that starts to gnaw at her, reminding herself that she's single, and she can do whatever and whomever she wants. "Who told you?"

"Quinn." Brittany's stomach clenches as she remembers the smirk on Quinn's face as she told her, the way she implied that their previous tension must have been sexual and they just didn't notice, like this was a long time coming. Like maybe Santana had always had a thing for her. She feels sick at the idea of that being true. She knows Santana has had crushes, like on Miss Holiday and even Mercedes (though she denies it), but the idea of her having one on Quinn does not sit well with her at all.

Santana rolls her eyes, internally cursing Quinn for being such a trouble making bitch. Though, the girl is unpredictable, so for all she knows, Quinn might have thought she was helping in her own weird, manipulative way. "Oh, well, then yeah. I slept with Fabray," she answers with a shrug, attempting to sound as casual as possible. Like sleeping with Quinn wasn't something totally out of left field, and like it's not something she should have to explain to Brittany. "Though we didn't do much sleeping, if you know what I mean."

"Stop," Brittany whispers, trying to find her voice. It's one thing to have it confirmed; it's another thing for Santana to rub it in her face. Especially after Quinn already did. "Please."

"Why? You jealous?" Santana demands, spinning around on her heel to glare at the other girl. She thinks she should probably be glad Brittany seems jealous, since it at gives her hope she still has feelings for her. But really, it just pisses her off; like Brittany is trying to make her into the bad guy here, when she didn't technically do anything wrong. "You made your choice, Brittany. You have no right to be jealous."

"Maybe not," the blonde shrugs, bringing her arms up to fold across her chest, as if to shield herself from Santana's anger. "But you broke up with me and told me I could date other people, but that didn't stop you from paying some girl to pretend to be your girlfriend so you could parade her around in front of me to hurt me, when you found out I was dating Sam."

Santana immediately looks away in shame, knowing Brittany's got her there. She acted way more jealous than Brittany is right now. Neither of them really have the right, but they can't help how they feel. _Of course_ Brittany would be jealous, she can't blame her for that. She sighs in defeat, and slumps her shoulders, her anger leaving as quickly as it came. "You're right, I'm sorry." She forces her gaze back at the blonde, and she softens even more. "I didn't do it to hurt you or to make you jealous, you know. With Quinn, I mean."

Brittany doesn't know if that makes her feel better or worse about the news. At least if Santana did it to make her jealous, she didn't have to worry about what Quinn had said. "Then why did you do it?"

"Because I was at a wedding alone, again," Santana explains, turning to shove a couple more things back into her suitcase so she doesn't have to look at Brittany as she answers her. "And I had to spend all night watching you dance with your boyfriend, again." She remembers it hurt to watch Brittany with Artie at the Hummel/Hudson wedding, but that was nothing compared to seeing her with Sam. "Because you chose a guy over me, _again_." She knows that's not entirely fair, since the situations weren't the same, and well, she was the one that broke up with Brittany in the first place, but it still hurts all the same. She tenses when she hears the blonde shuffle further into the room. She lets out a huff of frustration when she feels her standing right behind her and sits down on the edge of her bed, hanging her head to avoid Brittany's gaze. "Because I was an idiot when I broke up with you and I've regretted it since the moment I did it. Because it was fucking Valentine's Day, and I had spent the whole day before in here, listening to our Infinite Playlist on repeat and crying." Brittany sits down beside her and cautiously places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Because I was lonely, and pissed and drunk," she continues, before working up the courage to look at the girl beside her. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Brittany is quick to say, her tummy already in knots over what Santana just told her. "I didn't… I didn't come here because I'm _mad_ at you. It just hurt to hear, and I just… I don't know." She shakes her head, trying to find her thoughts. She hates that Santana was feeling so awful, especially if she had a hand in causing it, but she's also glad to hear that none of Santana's reasons included actually wanting _Quinn_. "I don't know why I came here, I guess. After talking to Quinn, I just wanted to see you. See you before you went back to New York. See if you looked different." She tries to hold Santana's gaze, but finds she can't. "Or if you looked _at me_ differently. I don't know…"

"Why would I…" Santana furrows her brows, trying to make sense of Brittany's words. She watches the blonde wringing her hands together nervously, and she suddenly recognizes all the signs of insecurity she herself feels when it comes to Brittany and anyone else. "Britts, last night with Quinn, that wasn't, it didn't _mean_ anything. Quinn's not even gay."

It's kind of what Brittany wants to hear, but not quite. She wants to hear it didn't mean anything, but not because of whatever Quinn's orientation is. She wants to know it didn't mean anything because _Santana doesn't want Quinn_. "Neither am I. Not really."

"She's not 'not gay' like you're 'not gay'," she tries to explain. "At least she says she's not. She was just experimenting. You know her, she's a walking cliché."

"That's what you said when we first started sleeping together," the blonde points out, hoping she can get what she wants to hear without having to ask. She doesn't think she has the nerve to. "That it didn't mean anything, that it was natural to be curious."

Santana tries desperately to figure out what Brittany is trying to get at, and it takes her a moment, because the idea is so ridiculous to her that she can't believe Brittany would even consider it. "Wait. Do you think I'm gonna fall in love with Quinn now or something?"

When she hears it out loud like that, it does sound kind of crazy to Brittany, but everything that's happened with them this year has been crazy and unpredictable. "You slept with her, she's your friend, it would kind of make sense that she could become your girlfriend."

"In what universe would Quinn and I dating make _any_ sense?" Santana knows that jealousy can cause some people to act and think irrationally, but Brittany can't be serious right now, can she? "She's good for a drinking buddy, but I could never deal with her sociopathic tendencies long enough to date her. You know better than anyone how Quinn and I work. Yeah, we can have our nice moments, but most of the time we can barely be in the same room without slapping each other."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Brittany acknowledges, knowing it's true. And that's not even what she's really worried about. She _knows_ Quinn and Santana could never actually be in a relationship, but that's not what Quinn had implied. "It's just, well, Quinn said…"

Santana narrows her eyes. She should've known. "What did Quinn say?"

"It's stupid."

"Well, yeah, if Quinn said it, it probably is, but tell me anyway." When she sees Brittany hesitating, she gently shakes her elbow to encourage her. "Come on."

"She didn't _really_ say anything, but she did it in her Quinn way," she clarifies, risking a glance at Santana. She finds an understanding and encouraging expression that she's more than used to, and it makes her feel better instantly. "She basically said that maybe you guys fought all the time because you wanted to sleep together. Like sexual tension or subtext or whatever it is that you always say Rizzoli and Isles have."

Santana clenches her fist, wishing Quinn was around so she could slap her. "Britt, come on. You _know_ Quinn. She's just trying to mess with you, and me. Please tell me you don't really believe that."

"You did sleep with her," Brittany points out.

"It didn't happen because it was _Quinn_ ," she tells her, moving over to be closer to the blonde. "Like I said, I was sad and lonely and feeling rejected and for reasons only her future therapist knows, she was coming on to me. I just didn't want to be alone and she was there. It would've happened if some random bridesmaid hit on me instead." As Brittany listens, she understands, because that's why she started dating Sam in the first place. And why she's still dating him, if she's honest. She figures it's best to keep that to herself right now, though.

"So you didn't have a crush on her or anything?" she asks, just to be sure.

Santana tries not to laugh at the thought. It's almost as ridiculous as the time Brittany asked if she had one on Berry, after she found her picture in her locker. "God no. It was a right place at the right time kinda thing. Or wrong place, I guess. But it's not something I'd ever hoped would happen. And good thing, because talk about disappointing. Fabray is about as good in bed as you'd expect the former president of the Celibacy Club to be."

Brittany giggles at the thought, relieved to hear that. She knows Santana is likely playing it down to try to make her feel better, but it works, so she doesn't think about it too much. "I'm sorry for giving you the sixth degree. I guess I just got scared when I heard."

"Why were you scared?" Both she and Brittany used to have meaningless hook ups with guys all the time, and they both knew it never meant anything. Maybe she thought it was different because Quinn was a girl? But it's not like Quinn was the only girl she's hooked up with since the break up. Though she guesses Brittany doesn't know that. "It was just sex. Weren't you the one that told me to go find a _girlfriend_?"

"I know," she admits, lowering her eyes to watch her foot dig into the carpet a little. She decides against pointing out that Santana also told her it was okay to date other people, but that didn't stop her from being upset when it happened. "I guess I just figured whoever you met, she wouldn't know you like I do. You wouldn't have history or inside jokes or anything. It wouldn't be, she wouldn't be able to…"

"To compete?" Santana guesses, knowing the feeling. One of the reasons she hated that Brittany was dating Sam of all people, was because she knew he got her on some level. He obviously didn't understand her the way Santana did, but she's pretty sure they're a better match than Brittany and Artie were. And that made him more of a threat.

"It's selfish, I know, but you said you'd always love me the most, and it gives me hope that no matter who we date now, we'll end up together." She shrugs and forces herself to look at Santana, hoping to convey just how much she means that. She reaches forward and hesitantly takes the girl's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. "I still love you more than anyone in the world, and I always will. That counts for something, right?"

"It does," Santana assures her, squeezing her hand. It's everything she's been thinking, and hoping to hear from Brittany, and it's overwhelming. She debates whether to leave it at that or really push her luck. "I might regret asking this, but if you really feel that way, why did you pick Sam?"

Brittany has been waiting for that. "I don't think I did, not really." She sees Santana about to interrupt, and quickly continues, hoping she'll make sense. "When you broke up with me, I didn't really understand it at first. I didn't get why you were doing it, but then I did. It was what I said at Breadstix, wasn't it? About you leaving me behind?"

Santana nods. "I could see you starting to resent me for leaving, and for not having enough time for you." The only reason she had even gone to Louisville in the first place was to be close to Brittany, so hearing that that still wasn't good enough hurt. But she knew Brittany was right, she didn't have very much time for her, even if it wasn't her fault. "That would've only gotten worse. I was afraid what would happen if we kept going that way. Look what happened with Kurt and Blaine! I would never ever want that to happen to us. I guess I was just hoping that it would save our relationship in the long run."

"Exactly!" Brittany exclaims, a little too eager to finally explain herself. "I know I don't always get things, but I get that. At least I do now. And that's what I was trying to do, too." She's not good with words, and she doesn't think she explained herself well the last time they talked, so she really wants to get this right. "If you stayed in Lima, you'd start to resent me the way I was starting to resent you for leaving. It could've ruined us and I'd never want that to happen." She remembers how lost Kurt felt at the beginning of the year, and she remembers Blaine pushing him to New York. But that didn't work out so well for them. "I know you wanted to go to New York right after graduation, but you went to Kentucky to be close to me, but you hated it there. I couldn't let you put off New York again. Not for me. You belong there." She knows New York is this big, fancy place that takes a lot of getting used to, and she needs to give Santana the time to do that, without any obligations to her. "You being there, and me being here, it's what's best for us right now. You know it is."

Santana has to close her eyes for a moment when she feels Brittany's thumb caressing the inside of her wrist. She takes a deep breath and gives the blonde a smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?"

Brittany giggles, and bows her head bashfully. "My best friend never lets me forget it."

"She sounds hot," Santana jokes, hoping to lighten the mood again.

"She's gorgeous," the blonde replies sincerely. She leans over to gently press a kiss to Santana's cheek, right where her dimple is, and then moves to her ear to whisper, "I'm, like, totally in love with her."

"Yeah?" Santana breathes out, pulling away just enough to look into the blue eyes she's had memorized since she was twelve. "Even still?"

Brittany bows her head to drop a kiss on the girl's shoulder before pulling back and shrugging. "Always."

"Me too," the brunette agrees, feeling herself lean into Brittany, hoping to prolong the moment. Their relationship has always relied heavily on contact, and it's always been so hard when they were in a place when they had to be conscious of it. She misses it so much. Catching herself, she shifts away slightly to put some distance between them, and carefully detaches their hands. "So, uh, what happens now?"

"I do my thing and you do your thing," Brittany begins, reciting her favorite quote from Boy Meets World. She's always been a believer of fate and soul mates and she knows with every fiber of her being that she and Santana belong together. She's loved her too long, and too hard, for it to not be true. "You are you and I am I. And in the end, if we end up together, it's beautiful."

The words are familiar, but of little comfort right now. Santana was hoping for a little something more than a quote from a 90s TV show they used to watch endless reruns of, though. "But do you really think we'll end up together?"

"Of course I do," Brittany answers, not hesitating for a moment. "Isn't that why we're doing everything we're doing now? Isn't that what all these tears have been for? So we're stronger for it in the end?" Santana gnaws at her lip, weighing Brittany's words. It _was_ why she broke up with her in the first place, but she hadn't realized it would hurt this much. "You have to go to New York and get to work on becoming a huge star, and I have to stay here and graduate high school. I know it's hard and it sucks, and we miss each other, but it'll be worth it in the end."

"But what about _now_?" Santana asks, her throat starting to tighten when she thinks about how painful these past few months have been without Brittany. "What am I suppose to do until then?" She doesn't even know when 'then' is. And it's that unknown that terrifies her. She doesn't just want to 'end up' with Brittany. She wants the journey and the middle and everything that comes with that. She isn't down for waiting twenty years until fate decides it's cool for them to be together again.

"You live your life," is the only answer Brittany has. "You do what you've gotta do to make it through the day, okay? If that means… If that means you find a nice girl to love, then, well, that's what you've gotta do."

"Britts…"

"No, I mean it," the blonde insists. She slips off the bed and kneels down in front of Santana. "I know I said that before, and then I got all weird, but I mean it, okay? I don't want you to put your life on hold to wait for me, for us. That's not fair. Waiting sucks, trust me. I did that sophomore year, and it hurt, and then I started dating Artie, and it hurt a little bit less. He wasn't you, but he didn't need to be, because you were you, and I knew. I _knew_ in my heart that one day it'd be you and me. That eventually everything would work out, and I'd be single, and you wouldn't be afraid, and it would be perfect. And it was. It was _so_ perfect. But then I failed, and I messed it all up."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Then who's was it?" Brittany raises a challenging eyebrow, daring Santana to blame it on herself like she did all summer. She knows it's not all her own fault; that Figgins or Mr. Schue or Ms. Pillsbury or Sue should have stepped in earlier and done something, but ultimately, she doesn't blame anyone but herself. "I failed, and we broke up, and I was waiting again. And then Sam… Sam is nice and funny and likes me, and he makes waiting a little less lonely, that's all. I don't love him, at least not like that. I don't want a future with him, I'm just wasting time, I guess. And maybe that's not fair to him. Actually, I know it's not, but…" Brittany doesn't really have an end to that thought, because she doesn't have an excuse. She's using Sam, and she feels bad about it, but it is what it is. "What I'm trying to say, is that if you get lonely, and you meet someone that you might not mind keeping you company, then let it happen. Don't fight it. Let yourself be happy. You deserve that."

Santana wants to argue, but the lump in her throat is making it hard to form words. Why does it feel like they've now broken up three times? "But I want to be happy with _you_."

"You will be," Brittany promises, the pure conviction in her voice making it hard for Santana not to believe her. "We are gonna be so happy together, I know it. I _feel_ it. Don't you? I know you don't really believe in fate and you think it's silly, but can you really imagine a future where we don't end up together? Because I can't. But if you don't believe it, that's okay, I can believe enough for the both of us. So if I graduate and you're dating someone when I come to New York, that's okay, I'll just-"

"New York?" Santana gasps out, not sure if her mind is playing tricks on her and she's just hearing what she wants to hear. Everything Brittany's saying sounds so huge and important, and she's hanging on her every word, but that stands out above the rest. " _When_ you come to New York?"

Brittany's lips curl up into a smile. "Well, yeah."

"You're coming to New York after you graduate?"

"That's where you're gonna be," Brittany shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Where else would I wanna go?"

Suddenly, the future seems reachable to Santana. The 'then' she was so unsure of seems survivable. She can do a few months, if it gets her a lifetime. As if she's grasping onto her future (and in a way she is), she cups Brittany's cheeks and holds her head steady to look into her eyes. "You're coming to New York?"

"Of course I am," she giggles, wrapping her hands around Santana's wrists to steady herself.

"But what are you gonna do there?" Santana questions, realizing that she has no idea what Brittany's plans for after graduation are. How can she not know that?

"I don't know, but I'm hoping you?" Santana blushes at the cheeky grin Brittany's giving her, but can't look away.

"Britt, seriously."

Brittany shrugs, but her smile doesn't falter. "I don't really know yet. I've been talking to Mike, and he says I could totally be a dancer. And Blaine says there's a dance department at NYADA. I don't know if I'd be able to get in because I'm not really a great singer, but maybe. And Artie told me he's applying to Tisch, and that I should look into it, because of Fondue for Two and stuff. And they have a dance department there, too. Or even Julliard. You know I've wanted to go there ever since Save the Last Dance."

"You're thinking of going to school?" There's not a hint of judgment in Santana's voice like Brittany's used to when she mentions any kind of college. People usually ask her that in the most surprised or condescending voice, clearly thinking the idea is out of the realm of possibility for her. But not Santana, she just sounds curious, hopeful that Brittany has seriously been looking into schools in New York.

"Maybe." Brittany shrugs again. She doesn't really have a dream in mind yet, besides being with Santana, so she just wants to go to New York, and school seems like the obvious choice. "I wasn't going to, because my grades still aren't really great, but I got a 2340 on my SATs, and everyone keeps telling me that would look really good on college applications."

"You got a 2340?" Santana exclaims, her eyes wide. Brittany's cheeks tint pink as she nods. Santana's entire face lights up and pulls the blonde against her for a hug. They both wish it was a kiss, but it'll do. "Oh my God, Britt! I'm so proud of you! That's _amazing_."

Her face buried in the crook of Santana's neck, Brittany can't help but compare her reaction to Sam's. Or everyone else's, really. She enjoys the embrace for a moment more before she pulls back again, resting her hands on Santana's knees. "I wanted to tell you as soon as Figgins told me. Actually, you were the only person I wanted to tell, because I knew you'd be the only person that wouldn't ask how it was possible or accuse me of cheating."

Santana really wants to ask how Sam reacted, but she refrains. "Well, other people are assholes. You can do anything, Britt Britt. You know that."

"I've missed you so much," the blonde says before she can stop herself. She knew she missed being with Santana, but she hadn't really realized just how much she missed everything that came with being with Santana. With Sam, it's different. His brain kind of works the way hers does, and he believes in a lot of the same things as her, so she feels a bit less weird around him, a little bit smarter. But Santana makes her _believe_ it. They might not think the same way, but she knows Santana loves the way her brain works, and that she really does think she's a genius. Everything just means more coming from Santana, and she misses it. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Can we really be best friends this time?" Brittany asks, a little unsure. "I know it's hard because we're not just best friends, but I really, _really_ miss talking to you. We don't have to schedule times or anything, but if something happens that I really wanna tell you about, can I do that? If I call to tell you about something funny Ashley said at dinner, or the horrible song Blaine did in glee, will you answer? Can we talk and not be weird?"

"Yeah." She thinks talking is exactly what they need to do. If they had just talked about what was wrong before, instead of making decisions for each other and then going their separate ways, maybe they could have avoided a lot of this heartbreak. "Yeah, I think that's a great idea, Britts. But no scissor Skyping."

Brittany pouts playfully, and laughs. "Best friends don't do that?"

"Not normal ones, no."

"Well, we're not normal best friends," she counters.

"No, we're not," Santana agrees, softly. "But we're still not scissor Skyping."

"That takes half the fun out of it, but okay," she jokes, squeezing Santana's knees before standing up. Santana suddenly panics that Brittany is about to leave, and she has no idea when she's going to be able to see her again.

She stands up with her. "You're leaving?"

Brittany glances at the end of the bed, where Santana's half packed suitcase lays forgotten. "You've gotta meet Kurt and Rachel, so you need to finish packing."

Santana follows her gaze and deflates when she realizes she's right. "Yeah, I guess I do. But I don't want you to leave yet."

"I don't wanna leave yet either." Brittany eyes the suitcase, debating. Like Santana, she doesn't know when they'll see each other again, so she wants to prolong this visit as much as possible. "Want some help? You're a terrible packer."

"I am not!" Santana gasps, faking offense. She grabs a shirt off the bed behind her to smack the blonde with it. "Just for that, you're on folding duty." Brittany accepts her punishment, and starts pulling out the clothes Santana had already stuffed in her suitcase to fold them properly. They work in comfortable silence for a bit until Santana works up the courage to ask, "So, a few months?"

Santana has her hands clasps together in front of her, a sure sign of her nerves, and Brittany drops the shirt she's holding onto the bed and closes the space between them. "Just a few months," she assures, wrapping her arms around her waist as another set wrap themselves around her neck. "Do you think you could possibly handle that?"

Santana inhales everything Brittany and presses her lips to the shell of her ear. "I think anything's possible."


	2. Chapter 2

This time, it is different.

Santana thought it would be hard to be best friends with Brittany after everything, but it's been almost a month of daily phone calls, texts and Skyping, and it's actually been pretty great. It's a bit awkward to start, but they quickly find out which topics are safe and which ones need to be avoided, and they find their rhythm.

Brittany will text her during the day, with the name of a song, which person is singing it, and a single emoji review of the performance. She'll call her at night and recite the insults Sue used in practice or whatever moronic lessons Finn tried to teach that day. And when they're able to Skype, Brittany will hold up a test or assignment she did well on, practice a song she wants to perform in Glee, or even make her talk to Lord Tubbington (who she'll never admit she misses).

Still, on the nights Brittany doesn't call her, she can't stop herself from wondering if it's because she's busy doing something with Sam. She always apologizes the next day and tells her that she had a lot of homework or studying to do. She always believes her, but every time it happens, it's a little reminder that things aren't totally the same as before, that the two of them could never really be just best friends. It's kind of painful, but it's also a little bit reassuring at the same time.

There are things she keeps from Brittany, too. She doesn't tell her about the time she bailed on open mic night at a local bar after the guy performing before her sang Landslide. Or when she may or may not have purposely spilled a drink on her co-worker's boyfriend after he introduced himself as Sam. She doesn't mention the blonde she got to third base with in the restroom of the first gay club she went to with Kurt, or the redhead she hooked up with at a NYADA party she got dragged to.

And she definitely doesn't tell her about how she changed shifts at the bar she works at to avoid the nice, pretty girl that comes in every night at the same time and flirts with her. Though, she does make the mistake of telling that one to Kurt and Rachel.

"I thought we told you to go for it!" Kurt screeches when he hears the news.

"You did," Santana confirms with a shrug. "But since when do I listen to the two of you?"

Rachel pats Kurt on the shoulder, signaling for him to let her handle this, and she takes a step closer to the other girl. "Now, Santana. I have seen this girl, and she is both attractive and interested in you. I understand that you still have feelings for a certain blonde back in Lima, but the fact of the matter is, you're not together anymore. You're single, and in New York, and it's time for you to experience new things, new relationships, much like Kurt and I have."

"I didn't ask for your advice, Berry," the taller girl snaps, brushing past her and walking over to the table, hoping to find something there that will make her look busy. "I'm not looking to date anybody, just drop it."

Rachel opens her mouth to try again, when Kurt raises his hand to stop her. "Santana, I know you're scared to move on. Brittany is all you've ever really known, and you think if you start dating someone else, the break up will feel more real. But the truth is, it's already real. Brittany is in another state, she's dating Sam. It's time for you to move on."

"Look, Ladyface," Santana starts, dropping the envelope she was holding and turning around to glare at the boy. "I don't remember forking over a grand to listen to your bullshit pop psychology, okay? You don't know anything about it, so keep it to yourself."

"But I do know," he argues, placing a hand to his chest dramatically. "Blaine was my first boyfriend too, my first everything, really. And I was heartbroken when we broke up, and was sure I would never love again. Yet here I am, in a new and exciting relationship with a cute new boy. I don't love him yet, but maybe I could someday. Maybe you could love the cute bar girl. Or some other girl, you don't know if you don't give her a chance. She could be the one!"

"She's _not_ the one," she insists with all the conviction in the world. " _Brittany_ 's the one."

"I know you think that," Rachel interrupts, moving over to join her friends. "I thought Finn was the one, too. Maybe he is, but I'm starting to realize that he might not be, that there could be someone else out there for me. Someone that I might have bypassed had I still been tragically hung up on Finn. Obviously that wasn't Brody, but like they say, there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

Santana rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms over her chest. "You two think you're the experts on this, because why? Maybe Finn and Blaine aren't the ones for you, but that doesn't mean Brittany isn't the one for me. If you want to go _fishing_ , have fun, but I'm fine the way things are."

"Didn't you tell us that Brittany encouraged you to date?" Kurt counters back, earning a nod of agreement from Rachel. He's going to try a different approach. "I know you two plan on getting back together after she graduates, but that's months away. What's wrong with just _trying_ to date a nice girl that obviously likes you? You're not getting married to the girl."

"Kurt is right, Santana," Rachel agrees, turning around on her heel to follow Santana into the living room, when the girl lets out a huff and stalks over to throw herself down on the couch. "You're in an exciting new city, with new people! You're changing and growing up. You should be allowing yourself to be open to new relationships, as well. Not holding onto a high school one. That is not to say that you and Brittany will not one day be reunited in sapphic bliss, but what's the harm in getting out there in the meantime? You could learn and discover new things and grow as a person. What was it that you said Brittany told you? That she was just wasting time with Sam? Why not do the same? What are you afraid of?"

"Moving on," Kurt chimes in, acting like some wise gay relationship guru. Santana can't stand it. The guy has been in one real relationship in his life, and he thinks that just because he's dating some foreigner now, he suddenly knows everything about dating. "She's afraid of dating someone else and falling for them, and finding out that maybe her relationship with Brittany wasn't as special as she thought, that she can find happiness with someone else. That maybe Brittany isn't the one after all."

"Jesus, talk about projection," Santana responds with a glare. Her friends stare back at her, just waiting to hear what she has to say if she's going to reject Kurt's theory. She sighs, and grabs a pillow to hug to her chest. "Look, I'm not scared of anything. I _know_ Britt's the one for me, but just because she is, that doesn't mean we're going to end up together. I don't have that same kind of faith in fate that she does. Shit happens. Everyone supposedly has a soul mate, but they don't always end up together, right? That hack Nicolas Sparks wouldn't have a career if they did. I'm not about to tempt fate by dating some random girl because I feel a bit lonely." She thinks back to what Brittany told her about her experience with waiting. She knows the blonde told her to discourage her from doing the same, but it had the opposite effect. "You know back in Junior year, the only reason she started dating Artie was because she got tired of waiting for me to figure my shit out? And when I did figure it out, and told her how I felt, it was too late, because she was with him, and didn't want to hurt him." She spent so long being angry at Brittany for that, but she thinks she gets it now, because looking back, she wasn't ready and Brittany knew that. "And the same thing happened with Sam. She was lonely and started dating him, and when I finally came to my senses, it was too late."

"Sam isn't the reason you guys didn't get back together, though," Kurt points out, knowing the conversation the girls had pretty well. It had taken some pushing, but Santana had eventually confided in them about her talk with Brittany.

"No, but he didn't help," she reasons with a shrug. "The point is, timing has always been a bitch to us, so I just don't see the point in dating some girl I don't even like and risking something like that happening when Brittany finally gets here. We've wasted enough time."

Kurt and Rachel share a look, not sure what to say. Kurt thinks they should just leave it at that, but of course Rachel has to open her mouth. "But isn't that a little unfair? How come you have to be the one to make that sacrifice, while Brittany is dating Sam? She gets to have him now, and then get back with you later, no questions asked?"

"I broke up with her and told her she could date other people," Santana reminds her friend. She hates the thought of Brittany with Sam, but knowing Brittany's feelings for him, softens the blow. "I know she told me the same thing, but I don't mind. Unlike you losers, I don't need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled. Besides, it's not like I'm wearing a chastity belt. If I wants some, I gets some. So just mind your damn business and let me make my own decisions, kapeesh?"

The duo reluctantly nods and lets the topic drop, much to Santana's relief. She's learning to tolerate them, but she can still only take so much, especially when they try to butt into something they know nothing about. Brittany was right, she doesn't really believe in fate, but she does believe in Brittany, so she's trying really hard to trust in the universe to make everything right soon, but that doesn't mean she's going to test the bitch.

 

Mercedes' grandmother gets sick in March, so it's not really surprising when she comes home to spend her Spring Break in Lima with her family. McKinley's break isn't for another week, but she's able to make plans to get coffee with Brittany at the Lima Bean on the only day Brittany doesn't have any after school activities.

"Satan tells me you're doing great in school, on track to graduate," Mercedes comments, after they finish discussing which celebrities she's spotted since moving to LA. Brittany grins, her smile half proud, half bashful, and nods. "I'm so happy for you, Britt."

"Thank you," the blonde replies, not used to getting such sincere praise from someone that's not Santana. Mercedes has always been really nice to her, and she was super supportive of them during Santana's outing last year. Everyone in glee club was, really, but Mercedes and Sugar had been the nicest. "I don't think I've ever studied so hard in my life."

Mercedes hums in agreement, remembering how grueling school work can be. She's only taking a few classes at UCLA now, and they're all things she's interested in, so it's not too hard. "I don't miss that. But you've always been good at memorizing stuff if you were into it. All that cat disease and dinosaur junk."

"Yeah, I just have to find a way to make it fun somehow," Brittany explains, taking a sip of her coffee. "It probably helps that I don't have a super hot girlfriend distracting me this time around, too."

Mercedes laughs, remembering how obnoxiously in love her and Santana were last year. She surprised _Santana_ even graduated. She thinks about asking why that doesn't apply to Sam as well, since as far as she knows, they're still together, but she thinks better of it. "Do you know what you're gonna do after graduation?"

"Not really," Brittany shrugs, not too worried about it. "I might try to do something with my dancing, or try to adapt Fondue for Two into a talk show for TV, or I might become a dog walker, I don't really know. I just know I'm going to New York."

"You could so do something in dance," she encourages with a friendly smile. She's been around enough artists in LA to know what managers and teams are looking for. "Your skills, with your blonde hair and pretty face? Not to mention your crazy personality? You'd be snatched up left and right for music videos and performances."

"You think so?" Brittany has always been into dance, having taken classes since she was young, but she never really thought of what kind of career she could make from it. It was always just something she did for fun, something she was actually good at. "I'm not sure if I want to go to school for it, though. Dancing has always just been fun for me, I don't want it to turn into something that's a chore, you know?"

Mercedes knows that feeling well. "I was the same way with singing. But Rachel and Kurt are basically doing that, and they seem to enjoy it. I guess it just depends on the person, or what the school is like." Brittany nods, considering it. "But you don't have to go to school like Mike is doing. You can always just put yourself out there, go on auditions, see what happens. It's what I'm doing."

"As long as I'm in New York, I'll be happy."

"What is it with you people and New York?" Mercedes questions, though in this case, she has a pretty good idea. "There are other places, you know? Why not come to LA? There's probably more dance opportunities there. You could stay with me, I've been looking for a roommate."

"Santana's in New York," Brittany admits, with a bashful shrug. She doesn't see the point in pretending when it's really obvious. "So that's where I wanna be."

"I know." Mercedes smiles at the girl and reaches over to give her hand a pat of reassurance. She pulls back and eyes the blonde, debating how to phrase her next question. "What about Sam?" Mercedes decides to keep it vague, because really, she's wondering about a lot of things. What are Sam's plans? Does Sam know Brittany is going to New York? Are they even still together? Is he even graduating?

The blonde pauses for a moment, not expecting the question. She knows it's kind of horrible, but she honestly hasn't really given much thought to how Sam would feel about her New York plans. She actually forgets she's even dating Sam half the time, since she's been so busy studying or talking to Santana and he always seems to be hanging out with Blaine. And when they do spend time together, it's nothing like it was when she was dating Santana, or even Artie for that matter. They mostly just sit around and watch movies or discuss random things that nobody else wants to talk to them about. The only reason they're even still together is because she's dreading having to break up with him and hurt his feelings. She still considers him a friend. "I don't know."

"Well, does he know you want to go to New York?" Brittany shrugs. "What are his plans?"

"I don't know," the blonde repeats, and starts picking at her muffin. "We don't really talk about stuff like that."

"Don't you think you maybe should?" She's not trying to attack or judge Brittany, she just doesn't want Sam to get hurt. They never quite could get it together, but she still cares about him and thinks he's a good guy. She thinks it was a little foolish of him to put himself in the middle of their relationship, that he should have known it would never work out in his favor, but he still doesn't deserve to be hurt. "If you're already checked out of the relationship and practically counting down the days until you can be with Santana, it's not really fair to keep stringing him along."

Brittany pouts and slumps down in her seat. She knows her friend is right. "It sounds so mean when you say it like that." Mercedes raises a challenging eyebrow. "But I know you're right. I do need to talk with him. I just don't like to hurt people. Especially after knowing how much it hurts to get dumped. I hate the idea of doing that to him. He's been really nice and sweet to me, and I know he really likes me, but…"

"But?"

"But I was never really into him like that," Brittany explains, frowning a bit at her own words. "I just really missed Santana, and thought maybe it would make me feel better, but I didn't know he liked me as much as does. I don't think I would have agreed to date him if I knew how he really felt." It's probably a weak excuse, because he _did_ tell her he had had a thing for her for a while, but she didn't know he was _that_ serious.

"Yeah, he moves pretty fast," Mercedes muses, remember how strong he came on last year when he first moved back. "Don't think about it too much. Remember how into Quinn he was? Or me? I'm not even sure if he remembers my name now. He's a big boy, he'll get over it soon enough and find some new girl to be the love of his life."

Brittany can't help but a crack a smile at that, because it's so true. Sam is a nice guy who always seems to get his heart broken, and she hates to add to that, but it's all for the best. It's not fair to keep dating him when she knows there's no chance of a future there. Sam deserves the chance to find some other girl that might appreciate his obsessive compulsive need to make love declarations and move way too fast. "I'll talk to him."

"Good." Mercedes sits back in her seat, pleased to have accomplished something in her visit back. She's actually missed the crazy glee club drama, and she can tell these idiots have obviously missed her advice. "Now that that's settled, please tell me this rumor I heard about Santana hooking up with Quinn isn't true." Brittany's face scrunches up in disgust and she fights the urge to gag at the reminder, and that's all the answer Mercedes needs. "Lord, I leave ya'll fools alone for a second and everything turns into a hot damn mess, I swear."

 

Brittany only manages to avoid Sam for a couple days before he corners her at her locker and invites himself over to her house that night to talk about something important, leaving her no choice but to agree. Ever since her talk with Mercedes, she's been feeling really guilty for everything. She always knew it was unfair to date him when she was in love with someone else, but recently she's just really started to feel bad about it anytime she sees him.

He arrives at her house right on time, and doesn't seem to notice anything is weird when she turns her head to avoid the kiss he tries to give her in greeting. He waves to her sister Ashley as they walk past her room, and he only gets a scowl in return. Brittany gives her a disapproving look, and follows Sam to her room.

When she enters, she finds that Sam has already made himself comfortable on her bed, so she makes it a point to sit in the chair she has set up in the corner. "I know you said you wanted to talk, but I actually wanted to talk to you about something, too."

"Sweet," he nods, repositioning himself to face her and flash her an excited smile. "But let me go first?" She doesn't think that's a good idea, but can't help but want to avoid hurting his feelings for as long as possible, so she just nods. "So, I don't really know what your plans are for break next week, but I'm hoping you don't have anything concrete, because I'm going to visit my family, and I wanted you to come with me, and meet them."

Brittany watches Sam practically bounce with excitement as she tries to process his words. "You want me to meet your family?"

"Yeah, in Kentucky," he explains, pulling a leg up underneath him. "I was talking to my mom about our plans and she asked what you were doing because she really wants to meet you, and then suggested I invite you along. And I thought about it, and she's totally right, because isn't that like a big step in a relationship sometimes? Meeting the family? I really want to take that next step with you, make us even stronger."

"Uh, I don't know," Brittany mumbles, not knowing what to say. Her eyes dart around her room, looking at anything but the boy who looks so out of place in front of her. "I don't really think that's a good idea."

"Come on, it'll be awesome," he insists, clearly missing just how uncomfortable she is at the suggestion. "I really want all the people I love to meet each other." He says it so casually, but Brittany almost swallows her tongue at the word. "Plus, I've really been thinking about what I'm gonna do after graduation, you know? And I think I might move back there to be with my family. I really miss them, and if I end up working, I think I could really help them out again." Brittany just nods her head mutely, silently panicking about how this is all just getting worse by the second. She already felt bad enough breaking up with him, but now he's talking about all of these plans and throwing the word 'love' around, and it's just making her feel worse for putting it off this long.

"Sam…"

"And I know we haven't talked about it yet," he continues, starting to sound a bit nervous. "But I was kind of hoping you might even consider coming with me?"

It takes Brittany a second to realize he doesn't mean for break this time. That he's asking her to move to another state with him after graduation. That what he's actually asking is for them to start planning a future together, when she's already planned out her future. With Santana. She can't put this off any longer. "Sam. That's… I'm really sorry, but that's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" he pouts, his shoulders deflating a bit, but not entirely. He clearly thinks he can talk her into this. "I know it sounds like a really big move, but I think it could be really great for us. There's some good community colleges there, if that's what we want to do, or we can work. It doesn't really matter, as long as we're together, right?"

"I'm going to New York," Brittany blurts out, not being able to handle his words anymore. When she sees his face fall, she immediately wants to take it back, to deliver the blow in a nicer way, but it's too late.

He waits a beat before speaking. "New York?" Brittany can hear something in his voice, but she can't figure out just what it is. She thinks it might be understanding, but not the kind where he's okay with what she's saying and agrees with it, but the kind where he gets what she's not saying and what her words _really_ mean. He understands that when she says New York, what she really means is Santana.

Brittany has to look away as she nods and mumbles out her reply. "Yeah."

"But, why?" he asks, even though he knows the answer. He stares at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I mean, I know _why_. Santana, right?" This time, she can hear the anger and hurt in his voice and all she can do is nod again. "I don't get it. She broke up with you, she broke your heart. _I_ was the one that took care of you. Fixed you."

Brittany bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn't like what he's saying or the way he's saying it. The way he's making himself sound like a superhero and Santana a villain. "You didn't fix me. If I was broken, Santana is the only one who could fix me, because she's the only one that makes me feel whole." Sam snarls at that. "You were a good friend to me, Sam. You were. You made me laugh when it hurt to smile, and I really like you for that. You've been sweet to me, but I'm sorry, I don't feel more than that and it's not fair for me to keep letting you think I do."

"But you picked me," he argues, desperately hoping that Brittany is just confused and that maybe he freaked her out with his talk about moving to Kentucky. "Santana came to get you back, she challenged me to a freaking duel, and you picked me."

"I did that for her," Brittany admits quietly. She wants to make him understand, but she feels like she's just going to make him more angry. "She was going to stay here to be with me, and she doesn't belong here. She was supposed to be in New York, I had to make sure she'd go there. And she wouldn't have if I picked her, or even made her think there was a chance we'd get back together."

"So you didn't pick me because you love me?" He remembers being so relieved and thrilled when she told him that Santana was leaving. Artie had tried to tell him that he should be worried, that he didn't stand a chance against Santana, but he had been confident then, and vindicated when Brittany picked him. Now, he feels like a fool.

Brittany takes a breath, and forces herself to look up at the boy when she shakes her head. She's lied to him for so long, he deserves to know the truth, even if it's painful. "I love Santana, I always have. You're really nice, and you were a good boyfriend, but she's _Santana_. I was always going to go back to her. She's my sea otter." She knows she's just hurting him more but she needs to make him understand why she's doing this. "You know that video, where the two otters are in the water and they grab hands and just float together? Santana showed that to me once, and told me it reminded her of us, cause I was her 'otter half'." Brittany feels her insides flutter at the memory, and she can't stop herself from smiling. "She said it like she was making fun of it, but I knew she meant it."

It hurts Sam to hear, and he doesn't know why she's telling him this. "Why did you even start dating me then? If you were always just going to go back to her? Why did you make me think I had a chance? You knew I loved you. I asked you to marry me! I called you my soul mate!"

"I'm sorry," is all Brittany can offer. Well, she could tell him the truth, that he was nothing more than a space filler while she waited impatiently for her days in Lima to be over, but even she knows that's not a good idea. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on like that. I just thought… I didn't think you really meant it."

"Why wouldn't I mean it?" he demands, raising a finger at her accusingly. "Unlike you, I'm honest about my feelings. I don't lie."

"I never lied," Brittany defends weakly. "I didn't. I never said any of that back to you." The boy scoffs at that, though he hates to admit that he can't argue with her, because it's true. It's not like he never noticed the most she'd say in return was that she liked his impressions, but he always just thought she was scared to love again, after being hurt by Santana. He thought that if he gave her time, she'd open up. "I didn't mean to say that you lied, I just meant… I didn't think you really meant it, because well, that's just how you are? Cause you basically proposed to Quinn when you were barely even officially dating. And then you were like stalking Mercedes after having a summer fling, and acting like _she_ was your soul mate, but then you didn't even seem like you even cared about her leaving. I just figured you threw those kinds of words around without really meaning them. Or, maybe you thought you meant them, and you don't know that you don't."

Sam clenches his fist as he listens to her, growing more defensive as she continues. "I'm not stupid! I know what I feel."

"No," Brittany immediately agrees, shaking her head furiously. She knows from experience how much that word hurts and she'd never call someone that. She's really bad at this. She moves off the chair and carefully sits down on her bed behind Sam, but leaves a good distance between them. "No, I don't mean it like that. I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm saying, I've never broken up with someone before. Maybe it's different for other people, but I just know that what I feel for Santana, I could never feel for anyone else. But you seem to feel the same thing for everyone you date. Maybe you just really like the thought of being in love."

"Or maybe I am in love but girls keep screwing me over," he throws back at her, pulling his arm away when she tries to grab it. He pushes himself off her bed to put more distance between them. "I knew you were still sad about Santana when we first got together, but I thought you'd get over it. I was sad when Mercedes left, but I got over it and moved on. I just, I don't get why you can't just move on."

"Because we're meant to be together," she explains, like it's that simple. And to her, it is. "I don't think you can ever really move on when you love someone as much as I love Santana. I guess if you really have to, like if they die or something, but… Santana is in New York, and she still wants to be with me, and I still wanna be with her, so we're going to be together. And I'm really sorry that hurts your feelings, but that's what's going to happen, and you just have to accept it."

Sam shakes his head as he paces the room. He can't believe this is happening. He really thought he had already dodged this bullet when Santana came back before Valentine's Day, and now he has to find out that all his planning for the future was for nothing, because Brittany didn't even want to be with him in the present. "This is such bullshit. I can't believe you were just stringing me along, and you were never going to commit to me. If I didn't bring up Kentucky, would you have even broken up with me? Or were you just going to wait until after graduation and call me from the plane?"

"I was going to do it tonight," she tells him, bowing her head. She feels really bad that he's so upset, and this was the exact reason she had been putting it off for so long, but at the same time, she can't lie and say it doesn't feel freeing. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I knew I wasn't being fair, and Mercedes said-"

"Mercedes?" It hurt to know that anyone knew about this before him, but the fact that it was Mercedes made it worse. "Does everyone know about what a joke this relationship apparently was but me?"

"I'm sorry," Brittany repeats again, knowing it means nothing at this point. She really wishes he would just storm out now or something, and she could talk to him later, when he had time to calm down. She wasn't good with confrontation. "I'm sorry that I dated you when I was still in love with Santana, and I'm sorry I kept dating you for this long. But, there's still a couple months left of school! Maybe you can find someone else to date. Tina's looking for a boyfriend!"

Sam glares at her. "You think I can just move on that quickly? That you can just pawn me off on some other girl to make yourself feel better?"

Brittany shrugs helplessly, caught. She keeps trying to make him feel better, but it's just making it worse. She doesn't really know how to break up with someone. "I don't know, I just thought you liked having a girlfriend. And Tina seems to really miss having a boyfriend. So much so that she was willing to be in a sexless relationship with Blaine, which is basically what you have with Blaine now, isn't it? Seems like you guys might be perfect for each other."

"I can't be here right now." He looks at Brittany and all he can see in her eyes is guilt and pity, and he can't stand it. He shakes his head and stalks over to the door, pulling it open forcefully. "Don't come crying to me the next time Santana dumps you because some girl smiled at her."

Brittany winces as her door is slammed shut, and listens as the boy stomps down the stairs and out of her house. She sits in silence, biting her nails and feeling like crap until there's a soft knock at her door a few seconds later. "Come in."

The door opens and a tiny blonde sticks her head in, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ash," Brittany tells her sister, the tone in her voice betraying her.

"What was Fishface so mad about?"

The older girl glares at her for the name, having told her not to call him that several times. Most of the time she loves the influence Santana has had on her growing up, but sometimes it has its drawbacks. "We broke up."

"Really?" the little girl asks, her face lighting up at the news. Brittany rolls her eyes at the reaction and nods. "Finally! Lord Tubbington and I had a bet going on when you'd finally dump him, and I totally won."

"You're supposed to be making me feel better," Brittany tells her with a pout, crawling up her bed and pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Why?" Ashley asks, moving into the room and standing at the foot of the bed, her fingers running over the slits carved into the wood. "You've been wanting to break up with him for like a month. You didn't even like him."

"I did, too," Brittany argues, the feeling in her tummy getting worse the more her sister talks. "I like Sam, he's a nice person, I just didn't like him in that way. I still feel bad that I hurt him. I don't like to hurt people, you know that."

Ashley shifts in her spot, not knowing what to do. She doesn't like to see her big sister upset, but on the other hand, she's really glad that that Justin Bieber wannabe is finally gone. "Just remember it was the right thing to do and you would've hurt him more if you didn't do it now."

"I know." Mercedes told her that, and she's been telling herself that all week, so hearing her surprisingly wise ten year old sister repeat it, didn't give her much comfort, but she appreciates the gesture. "But it still makes my tummy hurt."

"I'm sorry, Britt," is all Ashley can offer the older girl. "I'll send Lord T in and leave you guys alone."

"Thanks, Ash." A moment later, Lord Tubbington waddles into the room and over to her bed. She reaches down and picks him up to cuddle. "I bet you're happy, huh? You're the only boy I'll ever need, anyways."

She hugs him tight, wishing he was someone else.

 

Santana is searching the internet for a good Facts of Life lesbian subtext blog when she gets a text. She absentmindedly grabs her phone, her attention still on her laptop screen until she reads the name of the sender. Ashley Pierce. Her man on the inside. She hurriedly clicks open the message, and the words immediately bring a huge grin to her face.

_Jellybean to Snix! The Fish has left the building. I repeat, the Fish has left the building! The Unicorn is free! Over._

Santana can hardly contain her joy as she types out a quick thank you to her favorite kid in the world, her mind already going over a million different scenarios. She didn't doubt that Brittany would break up with him eventually, but she didn't think it would be this soon. Not having to think about how Trouty Mouth could be all over her girl at any point in the day was such a huge relief to her. She can't wait to tell her overbearing roommates the good news, so they can see that she made the right choice in waiting. Because they were one step closer now. This was really happening. Brittany is going to graduate, she's going to come to New York, and they're going to be together again.

Whatever that thing Brittany's always felt is, she can feel it now, too. She believes it.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana isn’t in the habit of answering Rachel’s phone calls (honestly, she’s not), but when her phone rings while she’s in the shower, and Santana notices the name flashing on the screen, she doesn’t hesitate to pick it up.

“You gay yet?” she asks in way of greeting.

There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end, the caller thrown by the unexpected voice and blunt question. “Santana?”

“Obviously.”

“Why are you answering Rachel’s phone?”

“She’s in the shower,” she explains, glancing in the direction as speaks. “Can’t you hear her obnoxious singing?”

“Thankfully not,” Quinn replies, settling down on her bed. “Is she almost out? Because she’s left me at least five messages in the last week, and I’m finally giving in and calling her back, since I know she won’t stop until I do.”

Santana checks her watch, trying to remember how long the other girl has been in there. She wasn’t really paying too much attention earlier. “Not sure. Depends on if she’s taming the forest growing on her stumps or not. But don’t you worry, I can keep you company until Berry is done.”

“Do you have to?” the blonde groans. It was hard enough to work up the will power to talk to Rachel. She doesn’t think she has the energy for a conversation with Santana. “I can always just hang up and change my number, and hope she doesn’t spend a week dialing at random to find the new one.”

“No, no, it’s no problem at all,” Santana assures, her voice dripping with fake kindness. “We do have a long overdue conversation to have, after all.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, genuinely not sure what Santana means. They haven’t talked since the night of Mr. Schue’s wedding. “We do?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Jesus Christ, Fabray,” the brunette exclaims, rolling her eyes. “How dense are you? Why did you tell Brittany about what happened between us?”

“Oh,” she responds in understanding. “ _That_.”

“Yes, _that_.” Rachel switches over to a new song, so Santana knows she’s got some time. She’s been meaning to bitch Quinn out since it happened, but they don’t really go out of their way to keep in contact with each other, so this is the first chance she’s really gotten. “Was it really necessary for you to rub it in Britt’s face like that?”

Quinn considers her answer, but decides she wants one of her own first. “How do you even know about it?”

“Brittany came over to ask me about it that day,” Santana explains, remembering the conversation they had that day, and how it changed everything. “She actually thought I had been pining over you or some shit. Why the fuck would you try to make her think that?”

“Because you two morons were never going to talk otherwise.”

“ _Don’t_ call Brittany a moron!”

“Jesus,” Quinn laughs, pulling her phone away from her ear at the volume, not the least bit surprised that Santana immediately jumped to defend Brittany while ignoring her own insult. “Calm down, Lopez, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how _did_ you mean it?”

“I meant that you two are the most stubborn, selfless people I know,” she explains, pulling her legs up and folding them underneath her. “You were both obviously hurting and still in love with each other, but had both let each other go because you thought it was what was best for the other and all of that other cliché, romantic bullshit. You guys were never going to sort it out without a push, so I helped you out. _You’re welcome_.”

Santana tries to process this information. She had always known it was a possibility that Quinn was trying to help in her own Quinn Fabray way, but there was also a bigger possibility that she was just being a destructive bitch. “You were trying to help?”

“Mmm,” the blonde hums in affirmation.

“By making Brittany think I had a thing for you?”

“You two are so predictable,” she explains like it was obvious. “Just look at you. You regretted breaking up with Brittany since the moment you did it, but it wasn’t until you found out she was dating Sam that you even tried to get her back. I didn’t see you talk to her once when we were home for Thanksgiving. So I knew the best way to get her to talk to you would be to make her jealous.”

Santana hates that she was played by Quinn Fabray, and she hates it even more that she’s grateful for it. “You could have just told her to talk to me. You didn’t have to put that disgusting idea out into the universe.”

“It wouldn’t have worked,” she answers with a shrug. “And it would’ve been less fun.”

“Who says it did work?”

“Well, obviously she talked to you,” Quinn points out. “Or else you wouldn’t even know the conversation happened in the first place.”

“Just because we talked, doesn’t mean we resolved anything,” the brunette tries to argue, not wanting Quinn to have the satisfaction of being right.

Quinn laughs knowingly. “But you did. Mercedes told me that Brittany’s planning on breaking up with Sam and moving to New York after graduation.”

“She already dumped his White Chocolate ass,” Santana corrects without thinking. She only knows this because of Ashley’s texts (and a random voicemail message from Tina), because Brittany still hasn’t told her herself yet, despite the fact that they’ve talked everyday since it happened a few weeks ago.

“Ha, see, it did work,” Quinn gloats, loving the fact that Santana owes her big time. “Nothing works as well as some good old fashioned jealousy.”

Santana rolls her eyes, and thinks it over. She remembers Quinn flirting with her, and coming on really strong that night. “God, please tell me you didn’t sleep with me just to put this little plan in motion. Because if so, you could’ve just spared me the humiliation and regret, and just lied to Britt about it.”

“Guess you’ll never know,” she teases, just wanting to torture her friend. She really had just been genuinely curious about it, after finding out her roommate was bisexual, and having the misfortune of being awake when she brought her girlfriend back to the dorm one night. They seemed to really enjoy it, more than she had with guys in her past, and she thought maybe it was the guy that was the problem. But something about sleeping with Santana hadn’t felt right either. She still doesn’t know what it means, but she’s decided to stop stressing about it.

“You’re the worst, Fabray,” she mumbles, though she figures that’s not the case. She knows Quinn isn’t the type to use sex that way. She had a reason, but whatever her reasons were, were her business. She wouldn’t exactly turn her away if she asked her for advice, but she’s not about to go out of her way to give it, either. “I have to live the rest of my life with the knowledge that that night happened.”

“Can’t be any worse than knowing that you slept with Finn.”

Santana gags, genuinely having blocked that horrific experience from her memory. “ _Fuck_ , thanks for the reminder.”

“Besides, it got you your girl back,” the other girl points out, not at all bothered by her friend’s overdramatic whining. “So I’m sure it was worth it.”

Santana lets out a happy sigh, knowing she’s right. “Anything would be worth that. Even though I don’t technically have her back yet.”

“But you will,” Quinn assures her. “And this time, don’t fuck it up if some chick smiles at you, okay? I know sleeping with one girl doesn’t make me an expert, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t qualify as lesbian sex.”

“Shut up,” Santana grumbles, still embarrassed by that whole thing. Sure, it wasn’t the real reason she broke up with Brittany, but just the fact that she used the term ‘energy exchange’ is embarrassing enough. She’s about to continue when she spots Rachel walking by in her towel, on her way to get changed. She hadn’t even noticed the shower turn off. “I’d make you pay for that, but Berry is almost done, and I know having to talk to her for an hour will be punishment enough.”

The blonde cringes, but accepts her fate. “But I’m serious, Santana. You and Britt are getting a second chance here, in no small part thanks to yours truly, so don’t fuck it up this time. I’m not taking another one for the team.”

“You wish you could get all up on this again,” she throws back as Rachel makes her way towards her. She’s so glad that her and Quinn can joke about that mistake of an evening and there isn’t any weirdness there. They don’t talk often, but when they do, it’s usually pretty easy and pleasant, insults aside, so it’s nice that hasn’t been ruined. “The troll has come to collect her phone, so I have to go. But you know, thanks, I guess. You helped in your own fucked up way.”

“Bye, Lopez.”

Rachel raises a questioning eyebrow, wondering why her roommate is on her phone and who she’s talking to. “Santana, I thought we had this discussion after the last time. You are under no circumstances, allowed to answer my phone, or go through my text messages.”

“Unclench, Barbra,” she scoffs, handing her phone over to the smaller girl as she stands up. “I saw it was Quinn and I had a few bones to pick with her. No harm, no foul. I didn’t look for any dick pics your new Ken Doll might have sent or anything.”

“I would never…”

“Don’t care,” she cuts her off, brushing past her and moving towards the kitchen to start making lunch. “And keep your phone sex to a minimum while I’m eating, please.”

 

Santana is at work when she hears the news.

She’s been regulated to the day shift (which consists of cleaning up the mess left from the previous night, and making sure everything is ready and stocked for later and it’s awful and boring and she hates it), after her manager discovered she had used a fake ID when she applied for the job. She didn’t need to be of age to work there, but she did need to be if she wanted to take customers up on their offers to buy her a shot. It had been going well, once she learned to answer to the name Rosario, but then Gayberry had come in one night and they blew her cover. Luckily for her, she was one of the more popular dancers there, so her boss let it slide, as long as she worked the day shift for a couple of weeks as punishment.

She’s wiping down a sticky table in disgust when one of her co-workers, Natalie, gets her attention. “Yo, Lopez! Aren’t you from Lima, Ohio?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You might want to check this out.” Santana glances over towards the bar, where a couple of other girls have joined to watch whatever is playing on the television overhead. As she starts to walk over, Natalie turns the volume up so she can hear what the news reporter is saying.

_“We’re still waiting for an update, but as of now, we’ve been told that police don’t know how many gunmen there are, or if there have been any injuries or fatalities. They don’t believe that there have been more shots fired since the initial round, but we can confirm that there are still students in the building, and no suspects have been named at this time, so police are hesitant to move in. We hope to have more very soon.”_

Santana’s breathing stops as she hears the words and sees the aerial image of her old high school on the screen. She’s frozen in place, all of her thoughts on Brittany. She can feel the panic starting to claw its way to the surface, as trembling hands automatically reach for the phone she turned off earlier, after Rachel texted her for the third time about something completely pointless.

“Santana?” one of the girls asks, but she can’t tell which one. Her voice is muffled, barely heard over the pounding in her ears. “Did you go there?”

Santana ignores them as she desperately tries to control the shaking of her hands enough to turn her phone on. She takes deep breathes as it lights up, before a lump forms in her throat when she finds she has multiple messages waiting for her. She scrolls passed the few texts from her roommates and stops when she gets to two unread ones from Brittany. Her stomach drops as she reads the words.

_I’m so sorry._

_I love you._

They were sent six minutes ago. Her immediate instinct is to call Brittany and demand to know that she’s okay, but realizing how dangerous that could be for the girl, and instead calls Kurt.

“Santana?”

“What the fuck is going on?” she demands, getting right to the point, assuming Kurt has heard the news. She can feel the tears starting to build up as her panic increases.

He wastes no time filling her in with everything he knows. “I was able to get a hold of Blaine. Almost everyone was in the choir room when the shoots went off, they’re still in there now. He said Tina hadn’t gotten to school yet and Brittany…”

“And Brittany _what_ , Kurt?”

“He said Brittany went to the washroom,” he sighs, his heart breaking for his friend when he hears her let out a whimper. He blindly reaches over to hold Rachel’s hand, needing something to help keep him together as he breaks the news. They had been desperately trying to find out all they could on the girl, wanting to have something to reassure Santana with when they finally got a hold of her, but they hadn’t been successful. “She’s not with everyone else, and Tina told him that she hasn’t seen her outside, either, and she’s not answering her phone… Santana, I’m so sorry, but they don’t know where she is.”

A million different scenarios run through Santana’s head, and none of them are good. She can’t believe this is happening, that there’s some crazy person roaming the halls of McKinley with a gun, that Brittany’s alone, and most importantly, that she’s not there to protect her. She wishes more than anything that she could be there right now, frantically searching for Brittany herself, sociopathic gunman be damned. “I’m coming home.”

“I’ll text Blaine again for an update,” is all Kurt can offer, before she hangs up on him. She spins around and finds all of her coworkers watching her. She had forgotten they were even there.

“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, noticing the tears starting to well up in her friend’s eyes. She wasn’t able to follow the conversation, but it obviously wasn’t good. “What’s going on?”

“My girlfriend,” Santana stutters out, the reality of everything just starting to hit her as she tries to explain what’s going on. She knows Brittany’s not technically her girlfriend, but she’ll never not think of her as such, and fuck it, if this situation didn’t call for a bit of emotional embellishment. “She, she’s in there right now and nobody knows where she is. She’s… she’s alone in there, and she texted me, and I have to go.”

“Whoa, wait.” Natalie pushes passed the other girls and chases after Santana, who has rushed towards the back room to find her coat and purse so she can leave. “You mean Brittany? She’s in there?” Santana isn’t super close with the girls she works with, but after she made Natalie pretend to be her girlfriend to finally get that one chick to stop coming around and hitting on her, she ended up telling her the whole Brittany/sexuality saga over drinks one night after closing. So if there’s anyone there that gets how terrifying this is for Santana, it’s her.

Santana brushes passed and rips her jacket off the hanger and roughly tugs it on. “Kurt said our friends are all together in the choir room, but Brittany’s not with them, and they don’t think she got out, so yeah, she’s in there. And she’s alone and probably terrified and _I’m not fucking there_.”

“Hey, slow down,” the other brunette orders, grabbing her friend by the shoulders to get her to take a breath. “Hey, hey. This isn’t your fault, okay? It’s not your fault you’re not there. Brittany understands that, and I’m sure she’s okay.”

“No,” Santana argues, pulling away and checking her phone for an update. Nothing. “No, you don’t get it. It would be just our fucking luck that something like this would happen now. We’re so close to being together again and then this, of fucking course.”

“You don’t know that anything has happened,” Natalie reasons, feeling helpless as she watches the other girl breakdown right in front of her. She knows how much Santana loves Brittany, and how excited she was for them to be able to start over after she graduates, so she can only imagine what Santana is feeling right now.

Santana shakes her head. “She’s not answering her phone. And I know she has it, because she texted me.”

Natalie reads the messages on the screen that Santana’s holding up and the words seem so ominous to her for some reason, but she sure as hell isn’t going to share that thought with Santana. “She probably has it off. She probably knows people are going to be calling her, and if she’s hiding somewhere, she can’t have her phone going off, right?”

“Oh, God.” The image of Brittany huddled in a corner, hiding in wait for some kid with a gun to find her, makes her feel physically ill. A whole new wave of panic shoots through her, and just as she’s about to loose it, her phone vibrates, alerting her of a new message.

_It’s over. Brittany’s with everyone now. She’s okay._

The relief she feels almost knocks her off her feet. She can feel her knees wobbling, and she knows she’d be on the floor right now if she wasn’t rushing to the washroom to throw up. She dry heaves into the sink, and tries to catch her breath at the same time. She lets herself fall apart for a moment, before she sucks in a calming breath and stands up, coming face to face with her reflection. Her eyes are blood shoot, there are tear tracks on her cheeks, and she’s paler than she ever remembers looking. She just went through five minutes of absolute hell, and she looks it.

“You’re getting a call,” Natalie says from the doorway, breaking her out of her trance. The girl has a kind smile on her face, and is holding out the buzzing phone she had shoved into her hands. “It’s Brittany.”

Santana’s eyes widen, and she immediately grabs the phone, her heart swelling up when she sees the blonde’s face lighting up her screen. She answers, and brings it to her ear, and all she can choke out is, “Britt?”

“I broke up with Sam!” the blonde immediately informs her, barely waiting for her name to finish. “I did it like a month ago, and I never told you. I was going to, but then I didn’t want you to think I was expecting something back. I didn’t know if you were seeing someone or were interested in someone because we never talk about that kind of stuff, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stop doing or seeing somebody, too.” Her explanation is rushed, her words going a mile a minute, and she has to take a breath before continuing. “But I was in that bathroom, and I thought I might die, and I hated the idea of possibly dying with you thinking I belonged to someone else still. I don’t, I belong to you, I always have. I’m yours, proudly so. And I just needed to make sure you know that.”

Santana nods to Natalie, who signals that she’s going to give them some privacy, and tries to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. “Britt, I…”

“I know,” the blonde sighs, trying to catch her own breath. She was terrified out of her mind in that stall, but she knows she would’ve been even more scared if someone told her Santana was in that kind of danger. So she made sure the first thing she did when Mr. Schue got her back to the choir room, was call Santana. “I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

“I _promise_ ,” Brittany swears, her eyes welling up again when she hears the tremble in Santana’s voice. “Mr. Schue came and got me, I’m okay. They don’t think it was a real shooting, they think it was some kind of accident or something.”

“How does someone accidently bring a fucking gun to school?”

Brittany knows she would have smiled at the beginning of a Santana rant, if she wasn’t still so shaken. “I don’t know, they’re still trying to figure everything out. But I just really had to call you, especially when Blaine told me he had talked to Kurt, and that you knew. I knew you’d be freaking out.”

“You’re damn right I was.” Santana finally leaves the washroom, and strolls back over towards the coat she dropped on floor. She bends down to pick it up, and then lets herself fall backwards on the old leather couch that’s back there for breaks. “I was fucking terrified, Britt. Those were the scariest five minutes of my life. Don’t _ever_ do that to me again.”

“I’ll try not to,” is the best she can do.

They’re both quiet for a moment, taking comfort in the sound of each other’s breathing, a reminder that they’re both still there. “I don’t know what I would have done if…”

“You don’t have to,” Brittany interrupts, wanting to stop Santana’s train of thought as fast as possible. She knows Santana has a tendency to overthink things, and she hates the idea of Santana thinking about something so horrible when she can’t physically be there to calm her down. “Nothing happened, I’m okay. Don’t even think about it.”

Santana knows there’s no way that’s happening, but she doesn’t want to worry Brittany about it. Instead, she runs a hand through her hair to try to calm herself, and changes the subject. “So, did Trouty Mouth cry when you dumped his sorry ass?”

“Santana.”

“Sorry,” she relents. “I know that probably wasn’t fun for you.”

“It wasn’t, but I felt a lot better after I did it,” she admits, glancing over at the boy from across the room. He’s talking with Blaine and Tina, but keeps glancing over at her. “He got really mad and has been avoiding me since. I feel bad that I hurt him, but I know I did the right thing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just…”

“No, I get it,” Santana assures her, leaning back on the couch a little. “Besides, I already knew.”

Brittany’s surprised to hear that. It’s not like she swore anyone to secrecy or anything, but she figures if Santana had known, she would’ve asked her about it. “You did?”

“Yeah, since the night you did it,” she informs her, laughing a bit at Brittany’s reaction.

“How?”

“I’m not at liberty to reveal my sources.”

Brittany thinks for a moment, and the answer smacks her in the face. “That brat! What a little traitor.”

“You know she was always Team Santana.”

“Only because she’s like in love with you,” Brittany scoffs, rolling her eyes. She feels foolish for stressing about this secret every time she talked to Santana, only to find out she knew all along. Though Santana is right, she really should have known that her sister would spill the beans.

“Obviously I’m a Pierce magnet.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” she repeats sarcastically, though there’s a clear hint of fondness in her tone. “You really are, though. I think my mom is even a little bit in love with you.”

“There’s only one Pierce I’m interested in, though.” Santana thinks back to what Brittany said earlier, and she figures she owes her some honesty back. “Actually, there’s only one girl at all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Britt,” she admits, softly. “There’s nobody else. You’re the only one.”

“Really? The _only_ one?”

Santana draws her bottom lip between her teeth, debating on how to answer that. Technically, there has been other girls; in Louisville, in New York, that time with Quinn in Lima, but they didn’t mean anything. Not like Brittany was implying earlier “The only one that matters.”

“Gotcha.” Brittany thinks she understands what that means, and immediately decides not to continue that line of conversation. She glances across the room again and it looks like Sam is about to make his way over to her. “Look, I better go. I know you’re at work, and I’m technically still in school.”

“Call me as soon as you get home,” Santana demands, anxiety creeping up in her at the thought of losing her connection with Brittany right now. “I think my manager will understand if I leave, and I really need to hear your voice right now.”

“I will, I promise.” She bites her lip nervously as Sam starts to approach her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Britt.” She’s thankful when the other girl hangs up first, because she doesn’t think she would have been able to do it. She cradles her phone in her hand and stares at the picture of Brittany that’s still on display. Before her emotions can get the better of her, she hears footsteps enter the room, and she looks up to find Natalie hesitantly hovering by the door. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

Santana gives her a small smile and nods her head. “Yeah, she’s okay, she’s gonna call again when she gets home.” Natalie returns the smile, and is visibly relieved to hear that. “Thank you, for earlier. For calming me down, for caring.”

“Of course,” she waves off with a flick of her wrist.

She’s incredibly thankful, and she does consider Natalie to be a friend, but she still feels a little weird around her, after being so vulnerable in front of her not too long ago. It was hard enough to open up and share her story with the other girl, but this was a whole other level, and now she’s feeling a bit uncomfortable with it. “Uh, do you think Kat would mind if I ducked out early?”

“We’ll cover for you,” Natalie assures her, nodding her head in the direction of the bar, where the other girls are still gathered around and watching the news. “Go home and relax. We’ll be okay without you for the day.”

Santana sighs in relief and stands up, her legs a bit sturdier than they were before. She slips on her jacket and walks towards the other girl, stopping to give her an awkward hug on the way. “Thanks, again. For everything.”

“I’m just glad your girl is okay,” she tells her, letting out a laugh at how obvious Santana’s discomfort is. The girl is a hard one to get through to, but something tells her that it’s worth the effort. “Now go wait by the phone for her to call.”

“Yeah,” Santana laughs, pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Natalie just nods, and Santana quickly leaves, throwing a quick wave at the other girls as she passes the bar.

She passes countless strangers on the street, and wonders if any of them came as close to losing everything as she did today. She hopes not, because she doesn’t wish that pain on anyone.

 

 “Brittany?”

The blonde offers Sam a smile as he approaches. “Hey.”

“Are you, uh, are you okay?” he asks tentatively, like he doesn’t want to talk to her, but really does want to know if she’s okay, so he kind of has to.

“Yeah,” she answers back, feeling a bit weird. Which is weird in itself, because she almost never feels weird or awkward, even when she knows she probably should. “It was a bit scary, but I’m okay now.”

“Good,” he says, nodding firmly. He rubs the back of his neck, not liking the awkwardness between them, before he sighs, giving in. “I’m glad you’re okay, Britt.”

Brittany feels a little bit of the tension leave, and she relaxes a bit. “Thanks, Sam. I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“Your parents?” he asks, motioning towards the phone in his hand. Everyone else in the room has been frantically calling or answering calls from their parents since the threat was over.

“Oh, uh, no.” She actually hasn’t even thought of calling her parents. She should probably do that. She hesitates to answer for a moment. “Santana, actually.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbles, but there’s a surprising lack of bitterness in his words. He kind of regrets asking, but it gives him the perfect opportunity to broach the topic. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I reacted that night. I was just hurt, and surprised. Though looking back, and after talking with everyone else, I guess I shouldn’t have been. Apparently it was obvious to everyone but me that you were never that into me.”

She wants to deny it, to make him feel better, because he looks so sad right now, but she can’t. It’s true, she never really was that into him. “I’m sorry, too. I never should have started dating you when I was still in love with Santana. It’s just that you really did make me feel better, and you helped me forget for a bit, but it wasn’t fair to you. You should be with someone that can love you the way I love Santana. And that you can love back the same way.”

“Thanks,” he tells her, for lack of anything else to say. That still hurts to hear, and he’s not sure he was ready to have this conversation yet. But when he realized Brittany wasn’t in the choir room, all he could think about was that she might die before he could make things right with her and he hated that thought. He’s still hurt, but he’s not mad at her anymore, and he wants her to know that. “Well, I better get back to Blaine, he’s still freaking out. I just, after everything that happened, I didn’t want to…”

“I get it,” Brittany says softly, understanding how today’s events can affect someone. She knows that everything with them isn’t fixed or back to normal, but it’s a good first step. She knows they’re probably never going to be friends again, and that after high school is done, they likely won’t see each other outside of New Directions reunions, but she would hate to end things so badly with anyone in glee club. They’re her family. “Thank you.”

He just offers her another smile, before he turns and heads back across the room. Brittany watches him for a moment, before her eyes drift to the rest of her friends, everyone embracing and offering words of comfort. Even though, _thank God_ , nobody was hurt, it still feels like an ending somehow. Or, the beginning of an end, at least. She might not have left these people today, but she will. Some day really soon, this room and all of these wonderful people, will just be a memory to her.

She thinks she should be sad, but she’s not. She’s excited. Where she’s going and who she’ll be with, is so much more important than anything, and anyone, she’ll be leaving behind.


	4. Chapter 4

Towards the end of April, Brittany is contacted by some people from MIT. She didn't apply there (she didn't apply anywhere), but they apparently heard about her insanely impressive SAT scores, and they really want to meet with her. She's pretty positive that she has no desire to go there, but everyone is so surprised and impressed when she tells them about it, that she feels like she has to at least go and hear them out.

She goes up to Boston one weekend in early May, but doesn't tell Santana about it. She knows she'll try to come down and meet her there, and she doesn't think that would be a good idea. Not only would it be incredibly hard to see Santana for such a short period of time before having to say goodbye to her again, but she knows that there's no way they'd be able to keep their hands off each other, and they have a deal.

So she goes in secret, has a meeting, takes a test and comes back to Lima with an offer of admissions for after she graduates. Her parents have the letter pinned up on the fridge, and every time she sees it, she gets a knot in her stomach. She wants to go to New York after graduation, but according to her parents, that's not a plan. MIT is a plan. It's a concrete, real, _mature_ plan. Going to New York just to be with Santana is apparently none of those things.

Her parents are good parents. They've always supported her in whatever she wanted to do, and accepted her for who she was. They knew she wasn't exactly academically inclined, but she excelled at other things, and that was good enough for them. When she failed her senior year, they were disappointed, but didn't shame her. When she officially came out to them around the time of that awful commercial, they told her how proud they were of her, and gave her a big hug. They're good parents, who want what's best for her, and they think that's MIT.

But Brittany knows it's not. Brittany has always known she's a genius in her own way. Santana has been telling her that for years, and Brittany believes almost anything Santana tells her. But a math and science genius? Brittany doesn't think so. And if she is, she doesn't want to be. She can't think of anything she wants to do less than math and science for the rest of her life. Sure, she enjoys tinkering with her time machine in her spare time, but that's a fun hobby, not a career path.

But everyone keeps telling her what a huge opportunity this is for her, and how many people would kill to be in her position right now. And she hates it. She hates that something she wants so badly is going to be viewed as the 'stupid choice' by so many people, even though it's not. It's _not_ , because being with Santana? That would always, _always_ , be the right choice.

"Fuck them," Santana tells her one night while they're talking on Skype. "Just ignore them, Britt."

"Easy for you to say," Brittany pouts. "You don't have to see the letter every time you get a drink, or eat the pancakes that have M-I-T spelled out in syrup on them every morning."

"Wow, your parents really don't want you to be with me, huh?"

She says it like it's a joke, but Brittany knows her well enough to know there's some serious doubt there. "No, it's not that. You know how much they love you. They just see MIT as this super awesome opportunity that they don't want me to give up to go to New York without a plan and-"

"Be with me," Santana finishes for her with a frown. When she thinks about it like that, she can see where they're coming from. "Maybe they're right, Britts. What if you give up MIT to come be with me in New York and we break up again?"

"That's not gonna happen." Brittany is sure of that.

"But what if it does?" Santana hates to think of it too, but she's learned this year that anything is possible, and not just the good things. "What if you give up MIT and come to New York just to be with me, and for some horrible reason we can't make it work? Then what? You'll have missed out on this awesome opportunity, and you'll be stuck in New York for no reason."

"But I don't wanna go to MIT," Brittany argues, getting worked up. She's had this argument with her parents so many times, and now Santana is going against her too? "San, even if you and New York weren't an option, I wouldn't want to go there. I hate math, and science is only fun when we get to do cool experiments, and everyone there looked liked a cross between Artie and JBI. Just because I'm apparently good at that stuff, doesn't mean I enjoy doing it! I don't wanna be a scientist or a mathitist!"

Santana can see her point. MIT isn't exactly a place she can imagine Brittany wanting to be a part of, but that doesn't mean the rest of her point isn't valid. As much as it pains her to admit, she's not sure New York is a place she can imagine Brittany wanting to be either. "Okay, I understand that, but do you want to come to New York?"

"Of course I do! That's where you are, I want to be with you." Brittany can feel that familiar scratching in her throat that signals she's about to cry.

"But if I wasn't here, Britt," the brunette explains softly, trying to make her point. "If I wasn't in New York, would you be planning on coming here? Would you want to?"

Brittany wants to say yes, but she knows that would be a lie. It's not that she hates New York, or would absolutely not want to go there, but Santana really is the only reason she's planning on going. "I don't know."

"That means no," Santana points out, feeling just as crushed as Brittany. She fucking knew everything was too good to be true. "Britt, I can't let you come to New York just for me. Just like you couldn't let me stay in Lima for you."

"Can't we just make our own decisions for once? This is how we got in this situation in the first place!"

"But it was the right thing to do," she reminds her. "You know it was."

"I just want to be with you, Santana," Brittany cries, pulling Lord Tubbington onto her lap for comfort. She doesn't understand why Santana is making this so much harder than it needs to be. "I don't care where it is."

"But you should." Santana watches Brittany hug her damn cat, and she wants nothing more than to be the one comforting her. "You should have a plan outside of me, Britt. I can't… I can't be the only thing you want. That's too much pressure."

"Can't I be there with you while I figure it out?" She hates to admit it, but she does understand where Santana is coming from, she was in her position a few months ago, after all. But this is different. She's not giving up anything to go to New York, not like Santana would have if she stayed in Lima.

Santana can't really think of an argument against that, but still, something just doesn't feel right about it all anymore. "I don't know, Britt."

Silence falls over them, as they just stare at each other longingly, suddenly feeling further apart than they have in quite a while.

 

"I think you're being a drama queen."

Santana lets out a sharp, loud laugh at that. "That's fucking rich coming from you, Berry."

"Be that as it may," Rachel concedes, knowing she does have a tendency to sometimes react in a manner than most would find disproportionate to the situation. "It just makes it more likely that I would be able to recognize similar behavior in others. And I just wanted to share my observation with you, in the hopes of preventing you from making a grave mistake."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do," she insists, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. She hesitantly reaches forward to take the magazine out of Santana's hands. She knows the other girl doesn't always listen to her when she speaks, but this is important, and she wants her to hear it. "Now, Santana, I know you didn't ask for my advice…"

"I never do," she comments, knowing it will go ignored.

"But I simply cannot sit by and watch you sabotage your relationship with Brittany. Not after everything that has happened."

Santana gives in, and gives the other girl her attention. "What are you talking about, hobbit?"

"The disagreement the two of you had on Skype the other night," Rachel explains, hoping Santana doesn't harp on the fact that she may or may not have been eavesdropping. It's not her fault there aren't any door in this place. "I couldn't help but overhear some of it while I was going over my lines for my Funny Girl audition. Even though I obviously already know the entire script by heart, I decided that it can never hurt to be overprepared." Off Santana's look, Rachel catches herself before she gets on a tangent. "Anyway, the main objective of this conversation is to share with you my concerns in regards to how you're handling your relationship with Brittany."

"And what would those concerns be?" It takes everything in Santana to not tell Rachel to mind her business and get lost. She knows the girl will just continue to pester her if she doesn't just let her ramble now. And truth be told, she's a bit curious about what the hell she's talking about.

"I suspect that you might be trying to push Brittany away in an act of self sabotage."

"And why the hell would I do that?"

"I'm sure there could be a number of reasons," Rachel answers, glad to see her friend isn't fighting this. "There always is. But if I had to venture a guess, I would definitely go with the obvious, but no less classic, fear based motivation."

"And what exactly is it that I'm afraid of?"

"Now again, this is merely speculation, as I do not wish to put words in your mouth, but I think you might be afraid of your relationship failing." When she sees Santana starting to protest (and likely insult), she presses on. "No, hear me out, Santana. It is my understanding that your love blossomed quite untraditionally, and from my observations, your relationship was always quite different than the rest of us. You might have had your share of woes before getting together, but once you did, you were a very solid pair. I believe your close friendship prior to dating really attributed to that. I cannot speak for everyone in New Directions, but I certainly thought that if any of us could make it, it would be you two. So I can only imagine how devastating it must have been when you ended it."

Santana swallows thickly, begrudgingly listening to what Rachel has to say. "Yeah. It sucked," is all she'll offer, though her lack of protest is a clear indication for Rachel to continue.

"Since then, you've been suffering that loss, much the same as Kurt and myself have." Rachel bites her tongue for a moment, fighting her natural inclination to make everything about herself, and pushes forward. "But ever since Mr. Schue's failed wedding, you've had this hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, if you will, that perhaps you and Brittany could make it work after all. These past two months, you've been reconnecting, getting to know each other again, all in preparation for when you can be together again after Brittany graduates."

"Can you get to the point, Berry? I know all of this."

"I think you're afraid that if you and Brittany get back together, you'll end up breaking up again, but this time for good," Rachel rushes out, not wanting to lose Santana's interest. "Right now, it's just this possibility, something to hope for or look forward to. Something that can't be ruined. But you're scared that when it happens, it _will_ be ruined. I think you'd rather wonder 'what if?', than _know_ that you won't work." She can tell by the look Santana's giving her that she's not convinced, but she really thinks she's right, so she tries again. "If Brittany doesn't come to New York, then you can't try again, and therefore, you can't _fail_ again. Then, in the back of your head, being with Brittany will always remain an option, a possibility. But if Brittany does come to New York, and you get back together, only to break up again, you won't have distance or locale as an excuse for why it didn't work, and you might just have to accept that you do not belong together. The thought of having to face that knowledge scares you so much that you'd rather just not try at all."

"Rachel," Santana begins, after waiting a moment to let her words hang in the air. "I have known you for four of the longest years of my life, and in those four years, you have said a lot of really stupid shit. I mean _a lot_." Rachel nods, accepting this fact. "But that might be the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say."

"Santana, it's not stupid!"

"It is!" she argues, rolling her eyes. Rachel just crosses her arms in a huff and gives her a pointed glare. "Okay, look, I'll admit that that thought might have crossed my mind, and it might even have played a role in the _private_ conversation you so rudely listened to, but that's not why I did that."

Rachel doesn't believe her. "Then what could have possibly been your reason for trying to talk Brittany out of coming to New York after all of this?"

"You obviously weren't listening to that conversation very well or you'd already know," she snaps. "For exactly the reasons I told Brittany. Her coming here just for me isn't fair to her."

"If that is genuinely the reason, then I must say that it's as stupid as you claim my hypothesis is."

Santana gives her a disbelieving look. "Are you kidding? I'm trying to do what's best for Brittany and you think that's stupid?"

"How about you let Brittany decide what's best for Brittany," Rachel argues, her words echoing Brittany's from the other night. "You two are constantly hurting yourselves under the guise of doing 'what's best' for each other, and in the end all it's served to do is hurt you further. I understand where you're coming from, Santana, I do. I don't know if you know this, but Finn and I found ourselves in a similar predicament last year."

"Is that right?" Santana remembers them having issues, but never cared to find out what they were. She was finally happy with her own girlfriend, she didn't need to involve herself in other people's relationship drama for once.

"Yes," Rachel confirms with a nod, her face dropping slightly as she thinks about Finn. She quickly shakes it off to get back to the matter at hand. "As you know, coming to New York after graduation was always my plan. There was never any question. Broadway has been my dream since I was a little girl, and to get to Broadway, obviously I had to be in New York. Finn didn't have such a dream. He didn't know what he wanted to do, and he felt like if he came here with me, he'd just be following me, riding my coattails. It was very important to him that he have a dream here too, a purpose, other than being my boyfriend."

Santana nods her head slowly, trying to get Rachel's point. "This is supposed to be convincing me that I'm _wrong_? Sounds like the same situation to me, and it also sounds like, for once in his life, the big ogre was right."

"No, you're not listening!"

"No, _you're_ not giving advice right!"

Rachel tries really hard not to pull out her hair in frustration. "Listen to me, Santana. Finn's issues were his own issues. To deal with them, he tried to get into the Actor's Studio, he dumped me at the train station, joined the army, shot himself, and ended up right back in Lima, filling in for Mr. Schue, where he finally thinks he's found his calling in teaching. Like Brittany, and a lot of people, _yourself included_ , I might add, Finn didn't have a dream or a plan. But what he didn't realize was that that was _okay_. Just because Kurt and I had our NYADA plans, doesn't mean _he_ had to have one, too. A lot of people don't know what they want to do with their lives straight out of high school, and they all figure it out in their own ways. If he had just given it time, let himself explore a little, I am confident he would have come to the same conclusion he has now, but without all of that pain. But that's something I couldn't force him to understand, and it's something I can't erase now. Now he finally has his future planned, but it seems I'm not in it." Santana's silence makes Rachel think that she might have finally gotten through to the girl. "Regardless of what you might argue, I'm your friend, Santana, and I don't want that for you, or for Brittany. If Brittany wants to come to New York, _let her_. It doesn't matter why she wants to come, if that's what she wants, that's her decision to make. Maybe things won't work out, or maybe the two of you can find your dreams _together_."

Santana bites the inside of her cheek, mulling her words over in her head. She thinks back to her reaction to the shooting, how she immediately assumed the worst because she was convinced that she couldn't be lucky enough to really get Brittany back. She thinks about that fact that she herself is in New York without a plan, and the world hasn't ended. She thinks about the fact that whatever Brittany decides to do, odds are, she'll be able to do it in New York. She _hates_ that she thinks Rachel might be right, but there it is. "You're really annoying."

"I know," Rachel smiles, knowing that's really Santana's way of thanking her. "You're welcome."

"I don't remember thanking you."

"It was in the subtext."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Since when are you so gung ho for me and Brittany to get back together, anyway? Weren't you and your super gay sidekick trying to pimp me out just last month?"

"That wasn't about keeping you and Brittany apart," the other girl explains with a wave of her hand. "No, you were just driving us crazy, and we thought you needed to get some. Or at least leave the loft more. It was his idea."

"Gee, thanks." Though, if she's being honest, it kind of makes Santana like them a bit more. Not that she'd ever tell them that.

"You had just moved in, and were being quite overbearing," Rachel tries to reason. "But after some growing pains, I think we can all agree that things have reached a harmonious status quo in our little home."

"So there's no selfish motivation for this little talk? You're not hoping I'll move out and get a place with Brittany?"

"Not at all," she assures her sincerely. "I was genuinely worried for your happiness, Santana. I know I can be self absorbed a large portion of the time, but I do care about my friends, and like I said, I consider you to be one of them."

Santana fights the smile threatening to break through, and instead offers the other girl a somewhat friendly nod. "I guess the feeling is mutual."

"Can I hug you now?"

"Absolutely not," she snaps, holding a hand out to stop the girl from even trying. "I've already established a monthly three hug limit, and it's already been reached. _Five_ days into the month. That's quite enough."

Rachel pouts, but accepts it. "Though, I must say, if Brittany is planning on moving in here, we will have to find a way around the no door predicament. The way sound travels in here might also prove to be quite traumatizing. Quinn has told me absolute horror stories about sleepovers with the two of you."

 

Prom is quickly approaching, and Brittany doesn't know what to do. She figures she can always go stag like she did junior year, and dance with everyone else's dates, but really, she wants to go with Santana. Junior Prom had been fun (minus Kurt's public humiliation, of course), but going to senior Prom with Santana was one of the most amazing nights of her life. Sure, neither of them won King or Queen, but nothing could beat the feeling of going to Santana's house to pick her up, slipping her corsage on and walking into that gym together, and have everyone know that they're actually _together_. Seeing how far Santana had come in just a year made her the proudest panda.

So the thought of going to this year's Prom without her didn't sound like fun at all, and if the glee club wasn't performing again, she would just skip it. Sugar says she should just ask Santana, but Brittany isn't sure. They've since made up from their kind of fight about New York. Santana apologized for overreacting, she officially turned down MIT's offer, and New York was back on track, but she's not sure if wants to ask Santana to Prom. The thing is, she knows Santana will come. If she asks her, there's no doubt in her mind that Santana will make it happen. She'll drop whatever she's doing just to go to some lame high school dance if she wants her to, but she's not sure if she wants her to. Well, of course she _wants_ her to, but she only wants it if Santana wants it, too. So basically, she's waiting for Santana to bring it up.

And Santana proves once again just how perfect she is, by bringing it up during a Skype session. And not just any session, but her very first long distance, video conference interview on Fondue for Two. Something Santana suggested.

"So, Lady Hummel mentioned something the other day that got me thinking," Santana muses, changing the subject away from Rachel's bedtime routine and any gross washroom habits. Brittany immediately feels a shift in the atmosphere, somehow knowing that Santana is about to do something big. "Prom is in a couple of weeks, isn't it?"

Brittany tries to contain the grin that's threatening to break out, but she fails pretty miserably. She takes a minute to calm herself before she confirms. "Maybe."

"Well," Santana begins, drawing the word out a bit. "It got me thinking about Proms of Dances Past, and I believe I owe you a promposal."

"Wait, what?" Brittany's confused now.

"I seem to remember watching a particularly sad episode of Fondue for Two up in my room, after I chickened out of coming on so you could ask me to go with you."

It doesn't take Brittany long to remember that afternoon, and the mixture of disappointment and understanding she felt as she had to resort to interviewing Lord Tubbington. "Oh, right. San, you don't have to-"

"No, I think I do," she corrects with an easy smile. She had wanted to do this last year, but after they were both nominated for Prom Court and made their campaign posters together, it was kind of just assumed they were going together and her thunder was stolen. She wasn't going to let that happen again. "I know it's two years late, but I'm here now, on Fondue for Two, to ask if you, Brittany S. Pierce, would do me, Santana Lopez, the honor of letting me take you to Prom?"

" _Yes_!" Brittany squeals, barely giving Santana a chance to finish the question. "Yes, of course I will!"

Santana smiles at her, one of those smiles that she usually only gives her when they're alone and not on the air with at least a couple hundred people watching. "I can't wait to dance with you all night."

"I wish I could kiss you right now," Brittany confesses.

"Soon."

As they grin stupidly at each other, Brittany puts a hand to her chest, checking to make sure her heart isn't bursting through it. "I think I'm having a heart attack."

"Well, you know what they say," Santana says, softly. "Those are just from loving too much."

"Then I'm definitely having one."

 

Brittany's second Senior Prom somehow ends up being even more amazing than her first. Santana flew in a couple days before, but refused to see her until the night of the dance, when she picked her up at her house. Brittany was totally against that until Santana promised her that she was staying in town for the entire week after as well, so they'd have plenty of time to spend together.

They went through the motions of any other Prom; Santana picked Brittany up at her house (where she was promptly tackled in a hug by Ashley, and given the third degree by her parents, who have since accepted Brittany's decision to go to New York), they posed for pictures, and drove off towards the school. McKinley was still cheap as hell, and held the Prom in the gym, but it didn't make it any less special. After greeting their friends, the girls spent the entire night dancing. The only time they separated was when Brittany was called up to the stage to perform with Tina and Marley, but she still sang the entire song to Santana anyway.

Deciding to skip the after party at Artie's, the girls end up sprawled out on Santana's bed after changing out of their dresses. Brittany is curled into the brunette's side, while Santana lightly traces shapes along her back.

"I really miss this," Brittany shares, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. "There's so much stuff about you that I miss, but I think I miss this the most. Just _being with you_ , lying here, doing nothing. If we had a laptop in here, we could put on an episode of Sweet Valley High and it'd be just like old times."

Santana smiles against Brittany's head, puckering her lips to press a barely there kiss against blonde hair. "I miss it, too. You have no idea, Britt-Britt."

"I'm really glad you came," the blonde admits, tilting her head back slightly so she can look at Santana. "Prom wouldn't have been the same without you. This whole year hasn't been the same without you. Neither have I."

"Tell me about it," Santana sighs, countless lonely nights flashing through her head. "I want to be mature and look on the bright side, and say that maybe this year apart has been good for us, that maybe we needed it. I mean, I think I've grown up a little, and I can tell you have, too, but…"

"Us being apart can never be good," Brittany finishes for her. She totally gets what she means. "Maybe we just made the best of a bad situation. As much as we liked to think we could make it through anything, that wasn't true. Things happened. I failed, and you went to college, and it was really hard, for both of us. Everything just got messed up and we kept trying to fix it, but it just messed it up even more, like when Lord Tubbington plays with my headphone cords and gets them all tangled up. But we figured it out, and we're together again. Or, we will be. Maybe it wasn't for the best, but I think we'll be stronger for it. Or does that mean the same thing?"

Santana just gazes at her adoringly, taking in the beauty of a Brittany babble, live and in person. She's really, _really_ missed them. She brings the hand that's around Brittany's back, up to sweep the girl's bangs out of her eyes, so she can kiss her forehead. "We're definitely stronger, babe. Harder, better, and faster even, too."

"Wanky," the blonde giggles, curling herself into Santana even more, wrapping her arm around the girl's stomach.

"Hey, no stealing my lines."

"We'll be living together soon," Brittany reminds her, playing with the hem of Santana's sleep shirt. "Which means you'll have to learn to share. What's yours will be mine."

"I've already learned that lesson," the brunette sighs, reminding Brittany that she's been living with roommates for a couple of months now. And if she can live with Kurt and Rachel for that long without committing murder, she knows living with Brittany will be no problem. "Which reminds me, we have to have sex extra loudly at least once to scare Berry."

"I think that would scare Kurt worse."

"Him too," she muses with a smirk, absentmindedly running her fingers through Brittany's hair. "But that loft is in desperate need of some action. I think it's been celibate since Donkey Face and Doctor Who got kicked to the curb."

Brittany smiles at her jab, debating whether to voice the question itching in the back of her mind. "You, uh… You haven't brought any girls home?"

Santana's hand stills in her hair for a moment, thrown by the question. They've always kind of tiptoed around the subject before, and she always just assumed it would remain a 'don't ask, don't tell' situation. "Do you really want to know?"

"I know you said there was nobody else that mattered," Brittany concedes, shifting her eyes a little to the side so she's not looking directly at Santana as she says this. "But I guess, I mean, what does that mean exactly?"

Figuring it's probably better to get it all out in open now, Santana answers her. "There were a few girls in Louisville that I hooked up with – after the breakup, of course – and there's been a couple since I moved to New York, but that's all they were, just hook ups. I haven't gone on any dates with anyone or anything."

"Really?" Brittany does a horrible job at hiding how happy she is to hear that. Santana nods. "How come?"

"You're the only girl I wanna date, Britts," she answers honestly, shrugging her shoulders a little bit. She decides not to tell her that, no, she's never brought a girl home to the loft, because she couldn't stand the thought of having some random girl in the bed she planned on sharing with Brittany. That might be a bit too cheesy.

"I never slept with Sam," Brittany shares out of nowhere. She can see Santana's thrown by the comment, so she elaborates. "I know you didn't ask, and maybe you didn't even want to know, but I just… I wanted you to know. I haven't been with anyone like that, since you."

Santana thought she was over that, but the feeling of the weight she didn't even realize was still on her chest being lifted, tells her otherwise. She should just leave it at that, but part of her really wants to know. "But why? You guys were dating for a while, and I mean, no offense, but sex has never really been a, uh, a big deal to you?"

Brittany shifts up a bit, so that her face is aligned with Santana's, whose eyes follow her movements until they're gazing directly into her's. They're still for a moment, before Brittany inches closer, stopping just a breath away from Santana's lips to whisper, "Because with feelings, it's better."

And then, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, their lips meet, and everything in the world makes sense again.

 

Even though they had originally planned on waiting until Brittany was in New York, they decide to do the long distance thing again. This time, they're a lot more successful. They still talk and text everyday, and the only thing that's different is the increase of sexts exchanged and the decrease of clothes during Skype sessions.

As school winds down and New York gets closer and closer, Santana tries to get Brittany to start thinking seriously about what she wants to do when she gets there, but Brittany continues to not worry about it. Santana ends up talking her boss into giving Brittany a chance to audition when she gets there, just so she knows Brittany will have something to do. Even though she knows her boss would've hired Britt anyway, she ends up agreeing to extra shifts in exchange, which means she almost misses her graduation.

She doesn't, though. She would've quit her job before she missed seeing Brittany walk across that stage and get her diploma. She flies out to Lima at some disgustingly early hour and makes it to the Pierce house in time to help Brittany get ready for the ceremony. She rides with them to the school, and manages to grab a couple minutes alone with her girlfriend before she goes off to meet the rest of the graduates. She finds her standing alone in the middle of the choir room, all decked out in her cap and gown, looking more grown up than she ever has.

"Hey," she greets softly, not wanting to scare her.

Brittany turns around, a smile forming on her face when she sees who it is. "Hey, you. What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you," she beams at Brittany, reaching up to straighten out her cap when she gets to her. "Like, nobody has ever been prouder of somebody in the history of the world, than I am right now."

"Such an egomaniac," Brittany teases, a blush starting to creep up on her cheeks. She's used to Santana's praises by now, but this moment is different. This moment is huge. Right now, she's proud of herself, too. "I couldn't have done it without you. I wouldn't be here without you."

"I think we both know that isn't true," Santana argues, absolutely sure of it. "Nobody did this for you, Britt. You did this all by yourself."

Brittany shakes her head, moving closer to the other girl and wrapping her arms around her waist. "I couldn't have done this if I didn't believe in myself. And I didn't believe in myself until _you_ believed in me. Nobody has ever believed in me the way you have, and I don't know if you'll ever know how much that means to me."

"Of course I do," Santana whispers, bringing her hands up to cup the blonde's face. "Because I wouldn't be in New York if it wasn't for you. I would've never been brave enough to face my feelings if it wasn't for you. I'd still be that mean, scared little girl. You believed in me too, we believed in each other. We _loved_ each other. I love you, Britt."

"I love you, too," Brittany chokes out, her eyes glistening. She surges forward and kisses Santana in the middle of the choir room, like she's done so many times before, like it might be the last time they ever will. They savor the moment, letting their lips communicate so much more than their words ever could, before they break apart, foreheads resting together.

"Come on, graduate," Santana speaks softly, pulling away and holding out her pinky for the other girl to take. "You ready?"

Brittany looks at her girlfriend's outstretched finger, and she remembers walking into this room for the first time so many years ago, linking pinkies because Santana had been too afraid to hold her hand. She shakes her head and smiles at the brunette, taking the girl's whole hand and interlacing their fingers, getting a firm hold. "I've been ready for years."

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Santana declares with a laugh, leading her girlfriend towards the door; towards her graduation and the rest of their lives.


End file.
